


The Subplan to Protect the Plan

by westwingfanfictioncentral_archivist



Category: The West Wing
Genre: F/M, Humor, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-03-09
Updated: 2011-03-09
Packaged: 2019-05-30 09:19:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 21,926
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15093773
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/westwingfanfictioncentral_archivist/pseuds/westwingfanfictioncentral_archivist
Summary: Donna starts making plans for the future and Josh starts making sub-plans to thwart her plans, and it's a big planning mess.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A copy of this work was once archived at National Library, a part of the [ West Wing Fanfiction Central](https://fanlore.org/wiki/West_Wing_Fanfiction_Central), a West Wing fanfiction archive. More information about the Open Doors approved archive move can be found in the [announcement post](http://archiveofourown.org/admin_posts/8325).

I pass Donna’s desk on the way back from senior staff and hear her on the phone. Not that I’m eavesdropping or anything. I’d never do that. Never. Anyway, she’s talking on the phone and I hear her say Friday would be great. A date. Ok, no need to panic. I’ll go to my office and find my list; everything will be fine. 

I go into my office and pull the list out from page 242 of my freshman year poly psy book. I’ve got a three-day notice, which means that number 2 is a good choice. I’ll cough a few times this afternoon, building it slowly throughout the day, look fairly pathetic tomorrow, with a constant cough, a slight whine, a lack of appetite and watery eyes (note to self: bring eye drops to work tomorrow), and Friday I’ll be bad, not so bad that a doctor visit is necessary, but bad, and by early afternoon she’ll come into my office to send me home. I’ll whine and say that I have too much work to do and that I don’t have any medicine or soup at home anyway, and an hour later, the date will be cancelled and we’ll be working from my townhouse in our sweats with her homemade chicken soup and grilled cheese sandwiches for dinner and a movie for later in the evening. It’s evil, but it’s a necessary evil.

I carefully fold the list and put it away for the next time, because there’s always a next time, then sit down to read the report on housing subsidies. Twenty minutes later, Donna comes into my office. Without looking up, I cough. Nothing major, just a little cough to get the ball rolling. “I have the statistics you need,” she says to me.

I look up as though I’m surprised she’s here. See how good I am? Granted, I’ve been practicing for years. “How far back do these go?” I ask, reaching for the papers.

“Thirteen years.” Insert small cough here. 

“That should be plenty.”

“Something in your throat?” Hook, line and sinker.

“Hmm…” See? I act like I don’t even notice it yet. “No. Why?”

“You’re coughing.”

“I am?” 

“Yeah.”

I wave my hand. “I’m fine.”

“You can’t get sick, Joshua.”

“I’m not.” I most definitely am.

“You can’t.”

Watch me. “I’m not.” 

“I need you to be well. I can’t take care of you this weekend. You can get sick next week.”

My eyebrows shoot up a bit. “I’ll consult my schedule and see how that works for me.” I cough again to accentuate my point.

“No.”

“No?”

“No. No coughing. I have plans this weekend and I can’t change them.”

What the hell? Who is this gomer? I come before gomers. She knows that, it’s a rule. “Hot date?” I ask calmly. It’s very important in situations like this not to sound like you really care. If I sound like the jealous idiot I…. Toby can be, she’ll be on to me.

“Yes. No. I mean... it’s not a date. I’m going house hunting.”

What? “House hunting?”

She smiles with a look of pride. “Yes, I’m buying a house.” 

“What?????” I kind of yell that. Oops.

“I’m buying a house. I’m meeting with a realtor Friday afternoon. I need to leave early. We’re also looking all day on Saturday and Sunday. So I can’t take care of you. I’ve rescheduled three times already.”

I stand up. I can’t believe she’s doing this to me. “You can’t buy a house!” I scream. Oops again.

“Why?” She’s looking at me like I’m nuts, and I’m looking at her like she’s nuts. Trust me, she’s the one who’s nuts this time.

“Buying a house doesn’t make any sense!”

Her eyes widen. “It makes perfect sense. I’ve been wasting money on rent for years. I’ve saved up a down payment and now I’m buying a house. Or a townhouse. I haven’t decided.”

“Why buy a house? You’re just going to sell it next year!”

“Why would I do that?”

Because the day the President leaves office, you’re moving in with me!

“Hello?” 

What? “What?”

“Why would I sell it next year?”

Oh… I didn’t say that last bit out loud? Well, that’s probably for the best. Why would she sell it? Why… why… “Because!”

“Good reason,” she says to me in her ‘you’re a complete idiot’ voice.

I stare at her. “I thought so.” What a lame come back. “What if… what if you…” get married to me? I can’t say that. Can I? No. I better not. “What if you… you know?” I’m an idiot.

“What? Like... move back to Wisconsin?”

“NO! God no, you can’t go back to Wisconsin!” I can’t live with the cheese people! I can’t!

She stares at me for a second and then busts out laughing. “I have cough drops in my purse. You cannot get sick this week. Understand me?” She leaves the room and comes back a minute later and hands me a cherry cough drop. I put it in my mouth until she leaves again, then I wrap it in a tissue and throw it away. One has to be careful not to drug himself when faking an illness. 

********** 

Well this is a whole new ballgame. She’s buying a house? Why would she do that? We only have eleven months left. I thought she understood the plan. She’s unemployed as of 5:00pm on January 19th. I have the ring in my pocket and drop to one knee at exactly 5:00 and propose in the bullpen. We then go back to my place where I have rose petals covering the floor, the bed, and anything else that doesn’t move, as well as a candle lit dinner. We spend the evening making sweet, sweet love… the second through fifth times. Let’s face it; the first time will probably be against the door, if we even make it out of the car. I’m still employed until the next afternoon; the President leaves office on January 20th and we’ll have transitional meetings and things like that. Donna will spend the day packing what she wants to bring to the townhouse and the movers will be there late in the afternoon (see how I get out of the packing?) All her furniture, because it’s ugly and second hand, will be donated to charity, so she should be completely moved in with me by that night. We leave for St. Thomas the next morning where we get married on the beach, just the two of us and the justice of the peace. We send postcards to everyone with the announcement and don’t return to DC for one month. Then we start our own consulting firm and eight years later, we get another person elected president. 

I know we’ve never discussed the plan in the traditional way, like with words, but I thought we were both clear on it. Have I been too subtle? Have things like dating Amy, constantly blowing her off, and making comments about her lack of taste in men overshadowed things like bringing her muffins, throwing snowballs at her and flying to Germany. Because I’ve got to tell you, I thought that was a pretty damn good one. Yet still, she seems unclear of the plan. And how do I know that she’s unclear of the plan? The plan does NOT include Donna buying a house when she’s moving in with me in eleven months and twenty-four days! That’s how.

********** 

I go to a meeting on the hill determined to come up with a plan. Not the End of the Administration plan. That plan isn’t changing. This is more like a sub-plan. A sub-plan to make sure she doesn’t screw up the End of the Administration plan. The sub-plan is a plan to keep her from buying a house. I have no idea how I’m going to do it, but I’ve got to find a way. The plan depends on it. The End of the Administration plan, not the sub-plan. I think. I’m a bit confused now. 

My meeting with Congressman Allen goes about as well as any meeting with a freshman congressman can go. I’m pretty sure he’s got a thing for Donna, but he knows the unwritten rule, so I don’t worry about it too much. 

“So, how’s Donna?” See, I told you he has a thing for Donna. 

“She’s fine,” I say with a smile. It’s really quite mature of me, I know. There was a time when I would’ve had him killed for asking, but I’ve learned how to better handle things like this in the last few years. “So, I saw you talking to Amy Gardner at the dinner for The Minority Women’s and Children’s Council last week.”

“Yeah, you know her?” he asks innocently. 

I nod. “She’s an attractive woman. Single too. You could have yourself a good catch there. ” He looks intrigued and smiles. That’s how I handle men who want my future wife now, you son of a bitch!

You didn’t really think I meant all that mature crap, did you?

********** 

When I get back from sending Brett Allen into the lion’s den, I feel better. Better that is, until I walk past Donna’s desk. She’s eating grapes and cucumber slices and looking at houses and townhouses online, and she has a list on a piece of paper of MLS numbers. Shit, she’s serious.

She looks up when I cough. I don’t think good old number two is going to do the trick this time, but it’s the best sub-plan I’ve got so far. She follows me into my office and shuts the door behind her. “How are you feeling?” she asks with worry in her voice. She does love me!!!!

“It’s just a cough.” By tomorrow, it’ll be plague like, but for now it’s just a cough.

“You need to go to the doctor.”

“For a cough?” Maybe good old number two will work after all.

“Yes. You can’t be sick this weekend Josh. You can’t be.”

“Donna, I can take care of myself for a weekend if I get sick.” That’s completely untrue, but the taking care of me thing needs to be her idea for the sub-plan to work. I’m absolutely helpless when I get sick. I need her there at all times. I tend to believe I’m dying, and she lets me put a pillow in her lap and lay there and she reads finance reports to me. It helps. I also call my mom a lot and complain about her being so far away. Basically, I’m six again when I’m sick.

“Well, if you’re sick this weekend, you’re going to have to.”

“Donna….” Now I’m whining. I’m feeling a bit put out here, a bit neglected, and for a brief second I forget that I’m not really sick at all. That this is all a ruse.

She points at me the way my second grade teacher, Mrs. Gartenfield used to do. “I’m going house hunting Josh, get over it. I’m not canceling on him again.” 

“Him?” Now I’m screeching?

“My realtor,” she says like I’m in some special needs class.

“Your realtor’s a man?” Get a grip on your voice. You’re forty-two years old!

“Yeah,” she drawls out.

I stare at her for a second. “Wouldn’t you rather use a woman?” 

She shrugs. “Jeff goes to my gym.”

“Jeff?” Jeff the gym guy spending all weekend hitting on my woman? No way!

She nods slowly. “Yes.”

“Donna, you don’t even know this guy. He could take you into an empty abandoned house and kill you, chop you into pieces, and no one would know it until I needed something Monday morning!” Or he could ask you to dinner and you could fall madly in love with him and have little Jeff the gym guy babies.

“Until you needed something Monday morning…” Uh oh.

“Donna, I’m thinking of your safety here. Try not to dwell on the stupid things I say.”

“But so much of what you say is stupid.”

“Donna! I run the country!”

“That’s what’s so scary.” Now she’s smiling, so I know I’m not in too much trouble. 

“I don’t trust Jeff the gym guy.” 

“You’ve never met Jeff the gym guy.”

“Exactly!”

“I’ll be fine,” she says, shaking her head at me.

“He’s a beefcake. He’s some strong, muscled beefcake. You can’t defend yourself against him!”

“He’s not a beefcake, and who even uses that term?”

“It’s a term.”

“It’s really not.”

“Donna!”

“He’s a nice guy. I’ll be perfectly safe.” And then it hits me. The sub-plan is born. I’m a genius!

“Yes you will be. Because I’m going with you.”


	2. The Subplan to Protect the Plan

“You are not to be rude to Jeff. Understand?”

“I’m not rude,” I say in an ‘I can’t believe you’d accuse me of being rude’ voice. Of course I’m going to be rude to Jeff the gym guy. Don’t be ridiculous. Unless he’s… say… 50 years old or older. Then I won’t be rude. Unless he touches her in any way, then all bets are off.

“Please. You’re a complete snob.” She totally misinterprets my rudeness. It has nothing to do with the fact that I’m a snob, which I’m not. It has everything to do with territory. Is that wrong? To act like she’s my territory? Well, if it is, too bad.

“It’ll be fine. I’m sure Jeff the gym guy can take care of himself.”

“And you can’t call him that.”

“What? That’s his name.” She never lets me have any fun.

“No. His name is Jeff. Not Jeff the gym guy and certainly not beefcake.”

“It’s a term.” I pull into the parking lot of Century 21 and park near the door.

“It’s really not.”

“I’ll be good,” I say, putting on my best smile, flashing the dimples that she can’t really resist. She gives me an evil look and gets out of the car.

Ok, I have to focus. Remember my goal. I’m not here to beat up on some struggling realtor, some married father of four, a fifty-eight year old limping, balding, graying, cross-eyed, coke-bottle glasses wearing, smoke stained teeth having, short, mini-van driving, Viagra taking realtor. 

My goal is the sub-plan to protect the plan. The End of the Administration plan. The down on one knee in the bullpen, rose petal covered townhouse, sex against the door or in the car, St. Thomas wedding, one month vacation, consulting firm, eventually getting someone else elected president plan. Yes, that plan.

I cannot allow my… well… for lack of a better term, we’ll call it jealousy, although I’d never call it that, get in the way of the sub-plan to protect the plan. Jeff the gym guy is not the immediate threat here. The purchase of a home is. Unless, of course, Jeff the gym guy looks like that guy right there. That thirty something, impeccably dressed, extremely muscular guy with perfect hair, a dark complexion, white teeth, and a great smile who’s sitting at the desk with the Jeff Roberts’ nameplate wearing a $500 suit and probably driving the Mercedes out in the parking lot. But I’m sure that’s not Jeff the gym guy. Jeff the gym guy is probably in a different office. Not this office. This office, marked Jeff Roberts, Vice-President.

“Hi Jeff,” Donna says, dashing all hopes of the 58 year-old I was so looking forward to getting to know this weekend and immediately changing the sub-plan to include sabotaging not only the purchase of a home, but also this man’s chances of getting in Donna’s pants.

“Donna! Good to see you. I’m glad you could make it.” He stands up and comes around the desk to us. He’s a little taller than I had hoped and there’s no hint of any sort of limp, but I still have hopes for the Viagra prescription. As for me, I immediately go alpha male, standing very close to Donna, sticking my hand out to Jeff the gym guy.

“Jeff, this is Josh Lyman. He’s…”

“Thanks for making the time to meet with us today, Jeff,” I say quickly, cutting Donna off before she can say we’re co-workers. I need to keep this guy guessing. Let him assume whatever he wants to assume.

He gives me a questioning smile but shakes my hand. “It’s my pleasure.” He looks back to Donna. “I’ve set up appointments for six places today and seven tomorrow. We’ll see what you like and decide on Sunday from there.

“That sounds great, we’re looking forward to seeing what you have to show us,” I cut in again. Donna looks at me like I’ve lost my mind. She obviously can’t see what’s going on here. The Vice-President of this place isn’t going to take the small clients. No way he goes after the $150K purchases. He’s looking for a million up. There can be only one reason he’s helping Donna. He wants her. I can’t fault him for it; she’s wonderful. But that doesn’t mean I’m standing aside and letting him steal my wife. I’ve put eight long years into this relationship and I can finally see the promise land. I’m not backing off now so Jeff the gym guy can have her. No way.

“Well, here are the buyer sheets on the places we’re going today, and here are the ones on the places we’re going tomorrow,” he says, handing me a folder. 

I look at it like it’s foreign and hand it to Donna. “You want to hang on to these?” I ask her.

“If you don’t mind,” she says to me with a glare.

“That’s fine. I’ll go through them tonight, after dinner,” I say, glancing up at Jeff with a smirk. Yes, up. He’s a tall guy. Bastard.

“Well then,” he says. “Let’s head out. We can take my car.” He gestures for Donna to go ahead of him, and I stay on her tail with my hand on her back. We go into the parking lot and Jeff the gym guy opens the front door to his ML500 Mercedes SUV for Donna. I smile sweetly at him and get in the back. Ok, maybe not sweetly. But it’s no scowl. I’m secure that my woman loves me. I’m not afraid of Jeff the gym guy. At least, that’s the look I’m going for.

********   
The second we walk into the first place, I grab Donna’s hand. “Let’s go check out the bedroom,” I say wiggling my eyes. Her mouth drops open and she looks like she might hit me, but she allows me to drag her along.

“What are you doing?” she asks me when we’re out of his earshot.

“What?” I ask in total innocence.

“This,” she says waving her arms around.

I shrug. “I thought you’d want to see your bedroom.”

“And what was with making reservations for tonight at Marcel’s?”

Again I shrug. “I thought we’d be hungry after this.”

“For a two hundred dollar dinner?”

Think Josh, think. “I… in case you found the perfect place. I thought you’d want to celebrate.” Hey, that wasn’t half bad. I’m getting better at this thinking on my feet thing.

She squints at me like she’s not sure she believes me. “I’m keeping my eye on you.”

This time I shrug with a smirk. “Hard to tear your eyes away, huh?” And a good come back too. I’m impressed with myself.

She shakes her head but can’t help smiling. “Why did I bring you again?”

“I’m helpful. In fact, there’s water damage on the ceiling right there,” I say, pointing to corner. “And you’ve got a crack in your foundation. See?” I say, pointing to the side wall.

“Is that bad?”

I nod. “Yes. It means you need a new roof and major structural work.”

“Let’s at least look at the rest of the place.”

“Fine.” I let her go in front of me and we go back into the living room, where Jeff the gym guy’s on his cell phone. He hangs up when he sees us walk in.

“How was the bedroom?” he asks me. I can see the gears working in his head. He hates me. Yes!!! 

“Water damage,” Donna says like she knows what she’s talking about. That’s my girl. Bluff your way through. Hell, that’s what I just did.

********** 

Toby calls me on the way to place number two. There’s a thing with the French ambassador, and I’m on the phone for the entire trip there. I’m trying to listen to Toby, but still listen to Donna and Jeff the gym guy. And let me just tell you, it’s not easy to comment on foreign policy while still trying to make sure the mother of your future children isn’t stolen out from underneath your nose.

“Does Josh work at the White House too?” he asks her. Obviously, he’s eavesdropping on my conversation. Just more proof that he’s after Donna.

“Yeah. He’s…”

“Donnatella,” I say, cutting her off. See how I’m using cute little names? It’s part of the plan. The sub-plan I mean. Well, the addition to the sub-plan. Whatever. It’s part of making Jeff the gym guy think we’re an item without going so far that Donna hauls off and hits me.

“What?” she asks.

“When is the French delegation coming?”

“Two weeks.”

“I just said that,” says Toby in my ear.

“Oh. I ah… didn’t hear you,” I say to him. He continues talking about the changes the French want in the talks.

We arrive at the second place and I’m still on the phone. It’s pretty cute on the outside. I’m going to have to find something wrong with it on the inside. Donna’s looking around with Jeff the gym guy and I’m paying attention to Toby, but not letting them get too far from me. 

Finally, Toby finishes with me and I walk over to Donna. I come up to her from behind and lean in so I can whisper in her ear. She’ll think I don’t want Jeff the gym guy to hear what I’m saying; he’ll think I’m being boyfriendy. It’s a word.

“It’s pretty small,” I whisper. She just nods. No need to worry about this place.

*********** 

“So, do you guys get to see the President often?” Jeff asks us on the way to the third place. I snort in reply.

“Josh meets with him several times a day. He’s…”

“We’re both important parts of the administration. We meet with him regularly,” I say, once again cutting her off. She turns around and gives me one of her 100-watt smiles when I say that, but I mean it. Donna’s an important part of the administration. You don’t have to meet with the President daily to be important to the administration. He’s only part of it. Donna’s my right hand. Without her, I wouldn’t be able to do what I do.

We pull up to the third place and walk inside. This one needs totally remodeled. I see Donna’s eyes. Uh oh. She sees possibility. “Donnatella…” 

“I can do something with this place, Josh,” she says quietly. Shit.

Now… I have to be careful here. First off, we have the Jeff the gym guy situation, and I have to come off like a supportive guy. Second, I can’t be a dick. It’s her decision, and I don’t want her to get pissed or feel bad about the types of places she’s looking at. Because the truth is, Donna could make a lot more money than she does by doing something else. Yet she chooses to stay in her current job. So, I can’t act as though she’s looking at total shit. Which, by the way, she is. On the other hand, I have to stick with the sub-plan.

“I agree,” I say nodding. “You rip out all those cabinets and appliances in the kitchen, put down new linoleum, rip up all this carpet and put new down, or maybe hardwood floors, completely redo the bathroom, paint, put a new door on the place… it could be something. Structurally, it looks pretty sound.”

“Yeah.” Although she doesn’t say it with as much gusto as she had a minute ago.

“I don’t think you’re going to be able to live here while you do that though.”

“Probably not.”

“You could stay with me,” I say, glancing over at Jeff the gym guy. Her eyes get huge when I say this, and I start talking again to keep her from telling me that’s an absurd idea. We don’t need Jeff the gym guy hearing that. “Although, if the rest of the place needs work, what about the electrical and plumbing, and what about insulation? You could have $300 heat bills in the winter if this place isn’t insulated well.”

“True,” she says, starting to come around.

“And when are we going to do the renovations? Think of our schedule. We’d have to be out of office before we really even got started. And who knows what we’re going to do next?” Well, I know. I have the plan. But as I discovered on Wednesday, she’s a little unclear on the plan.

“We?” Yep, I knew she’d catch that. 

“Of course. I’d help. It’d be fun.” That’s a complete and total lie, and she must know it, because she looks at me like I’ve been doubled by the evil Mr. Sark. 

She walks into the bathroom and looks around, but I keep talking. “Of course, when you’re done, you still have a one bedroom townhouse in an area that isn’t growing all that much. And you wouldn’t have an office or a dining room. But…” must remain somewhat positive. “You’d have a big bedroom and a big living room. That’s good.”

She comes out of the bathroom with a determined look on her face. “I don’t know. I don’t think this is the one.” Whew.

********** 

“Absolutely not.”

“Josh.”

“No.”

“But we haven’t even been inside yet.”

“We don’t need to go inside this one. This is not the one.”

“How do you know?”

“Do you see that car?”

“Which car?”

“The one with no bumper and no tires,” I say pointing to the car directly across the street from us.

“Oh, that one.”

“Yes, that one,” I say nodding.

“Someone’s probably doing some work on it.”

“Someone’s probably waiting on the police to get here so they can file a report on it.”

“Josh….” 

“Donnatella….no.”

“This isn’t your decision to make.”

“Call me a chauvinistic pig. You’re not moving here.”

“But…”

“Let’s go to the next one.”

“But this one has two bedrooms. The others we looked at don’t have two bedrooms.”

“That’s ok. You’re not living in the others we’ve looked at either.”

“Why did I let you come?”

“Because I’m helpful.”

“This isn’t helpful.”

I answer her by taking out my cell phone and pretending to snap a picture of the car across the street. “What are you doing?” she asks me.

“I’m taking a picture of that car and e-mailing it to your father. Just trying to be helpful,” I say in a singsong voice.

“You wouldn’t!”

“Wouldn’t I?” No, I wouldn’t. I have no idea how to use the camera on this phone. No idea whatsoever. And if Donna wasn't panicking at the thought of her dad seeing the neighborhood she wants to move into, she’d know it. I can barely turn on my computer, much less work a cell phone camera and then e-mail a picture to someone whose e-mail address I don’t even know.

“You’re mean.”

“And you’re not living here.” I turn to Jeff the gym guy. “She’s not living here.”

Four down, eight to go.


	3. The Subplan to Protect the Plan

“You’re not coming tomorrow,” she says, buckling her seatbelt.

“Yes I am!” I can’t leave her alone with Jeff the gym guy. Not only is he far too attractive to be a real man, what if he says something like, ‘so what’s up with you and that Josh guy? Are you an item?’ Then what? And speaking of that, I’ve got to come up with a way to make her change gyms. Great, another addition to the sub-plan to protect the plan.

“No you’re not,” she says stressing the word no.

“Why?” I ask as though I can’t think of a single reason she wouldn’t want me to come. I have to go. The sub-plan depends on it.

“Why? Why?” She gets louder each time she says that. “You were a maniac today.”

“I was polite. You told me I had to be polite, so I was. I didn’t call him Jeff the gym guy once. Not once Donna.” If she’s going to point out my faults, I’m certainly going to point out my attributes. And let me tell you, that wasn’t easy. I almost slipped several times. You might not know this about me, but I don’t like to refer to men in Donna’s life by their names. I prefer to come up with my own cute nicknames.

“You were….” She drifts off.

“Wonderful? Helpful? Entertaining? Charming?”

“No, none of those things.” She thinks for a minute. “You were... well, I can’t quite pinpoint it, but it was weird.”

“Well, if you can’t pinpoint it, then I get to come tomorrow,” I say matter-of-factly.

She glares at me. “Don’t you have work to do tomorrow?”

“On a Saturday?” I ask as thought the concept is unheard of.

She rolls her eyes. “I’m sorry, what made me think you, Josh Lyman, would ever work on a Saturday? I must be on some sort of hallucinogenic drug.”

“You must be,” I say with a smirk.

“The same one you were on all afternoon,” she mumbles. She’s deep in thought at this point, still trying to define my behavior. This is fun, I've actually stumped the one Donnatella Moss. She can’t say I was rude. I wasn’t. And she can’t say I was jealous, I was too nice to him. And she can’t say I was pretending to be… with her, because I never actually did or said anything obvious. And even if that's what she thinks, she'd never say it. She'd never acknowledge the elephant. And she certainly can’t say I was sabotaging the afternoon, I acted helpful. It was a ruse of course, but still. I was, to put it simply, perfectly sneaky. 

“How ‘bout this? Since we didn’t find the perfect place…”

She cuts me off. “We?”

Uh oh. “For you. Since we didn’t find the perfect place for you, let’s forget Marcel’s, order a pizza and rent a non-girly movie.” Obviously, we’re not going to Marcel’s. I only made those reservations because Jeff the gym guy was within earshot and I wanted to look like an amazing boyfriend without actually coming out and saying I was. Because I’m not. Not yet. But I will be. Both a boyfriend and amazing. 

“Gee, first I didn’t find the perfect place, now my dinner plans just went from a two-hundred dollar delicacy to a ten dollar pizza,” she says with a small pout. It’s cute. Not cute enough for Marcel’s, but cute.

“Marcel’s is for the celebration dinner.” Yeah, I’m still pretty amazed that I came up with that one on my own. 

Now she smiles at me. “Fine, but when we,” and she stresses the word we, “find the perfect place, I’m getting one of their fabulous deserts too.”

I nod. “Understood.” Since I don’t plan on letting her buy a house, I’m not too concerned with that promise. “And since I’m so wonderful, I’ll even buy the pizza.”

Now she looks at me like I’ve lost my mind and gets her cell phone out of her purse. “Duh. And I’m picking the movie.” 

“No mushrooms,” I whisper once I’ve cancelled the reservations at Marcel’s.

She covers the receiver with her hand. “Are you willing to admit to strange behavior today?”

“Are you holding pizza over my head,” I whisper harshly. She nods at me.

Ok, important decision to make while the pizza guy sits on hold. Do I cop to acting a bit odd today and get edible pizza, or do I play dumb and pick off the mushrooms. Because I’m telling you, I hate mushrooms. Hate. I mean hate.

“I was helpful. I told you about the water damage.” She wouldn’t really get mushrooms just to punish me. She’s a wonderful person.

“Can we get extra mushrooms please?” She’s an evil, evil person.

**********

We’re eating disgusting pizza, sharing one beer because she won’t let me have my own, watching a movie that Donna claimed I would like because it’s about professional tennis and therefore not romantic and girly. Wrong. Romantic. Girly. It’s like we’re already married, but without the sex.

Yet still, I’m having a great time. I mean, not as good of a time as I’d have if we were having sex. Let’s be realistic. But still, here it is, nine o’clock on a Friday night and I’m lying on the couch with Donna watching, let’s not sugar coat it, a girly romantic comedy, and I couldn’t be happier. And this is precicely why I have the sub-plan to protect the plan.

It’s just, sometimes I wonder when this is the guy I became. When hanging out with Donna became more entertaining to me than schmoozing at some political fundraiser. When sweats and gross pizza became more appealing than tuxedos and power talks. When a night not being seen became better than a night being seen.

I look down at the other end of the couch where Donna is. We have a system. A system that I’m sure Toby and Ginger don’t have. A system Leo and Margaret would be appauled at the suggestion of. When we watch movies, we lay on her couch, on our sides, at opposite ends. I keep my body to the back, hers to the front. Occasionally, like right now, she shifts and her top leg moves to the top of my legs. Then, eventually, our legs are entertwined like pretzels. It’s one of the many things we do without examining it too closely.

So I look down at her and see that she’s completely engrossed in this girly movie. Two weeks ago, we rented Master and Commander, and this same guy was in it. In fact, I remember that Donna didn’t want to get that movie because she thinks Russell Crowe is, to quote her, stocky and bulky with an abnormally low voice. I wanted to get it because it looked awesome, so I began prodding her with it. Finally, she took the box and looked at the back. Not long enough to read it, she just looked at it and then said ok. Now, looking back, I’m wondering if she got that movie, and tonight this movie, for this guy.

“Hey, who is that guy anyway?”

“Paul Bettany.” Ah hah. Why does she know that? He’s no Tom Cruise or Brad Pitt. I mean, maybe in England, but certainly not here in the US.

“Wasn’t he in Master and Commander too?”

“Yes,” she says distractedly.

“Donna?” 

She sighs and hits pause, then looks over at me like I’m interrupting Schindler’s List or something. “What?”

“Do you have a crush on blonde British guy there?”

“Yes Josh. I have a crush on a man I’ve never met. I’m going to run off to England tomorrow and stalk him until I either get arrested or he agrees to marry me. Then we’re going to have very blonde, very pale children.”

“So yes. You do.”

She looks down at the floor in shame and hesitantly nods. “A little, yeah.”

I just laugh at her. “You’re such a girl.” I mean really, he’s a celebrity. I’m not worried about him. I will start randomly searching the web to make sure I know in advance if he ever films a movie here in town, but for the most part I’m not worried. I mean, I’ve got my Meg Ryan thing. It’s ok if she has her blonde British guy thing.

“Hey!” she yells, tossing a pillow at me. “Do we or do we not see every Meg Ryan movie that comes out.”

I shrug. “You like those girly movies she’s in. I’m just trying to placate you.”

“Right,” she snorts out. See what I mean? See why I'm protecting the plan?


	4. The Subplan to Protect the Plan

I’m driving seventy miles an hour through the streets of DC. This can’t be safe. Fucking Brett Allen and his crush. This is all his fault. I think he and Jeff the gym guy are in on it together. No, really. Think about it, it makes sense. They probably met late one night at a bar and started talking about women. And Jeff the gym guy started talking about the blonde bombshell at his gym and how good she looks wearing a tank top and tight fitting yoga pants with her hair in a loose pony tail and sweat dripping down her long alabaster neck. Damn, I never thought of it that way. The second addition to the sub-plan, the one that includes Donna changing gyms, is going to have to be amended. She’s got to go to an all women gym. But maybe until I can make that happen, I should start going to her gym with her. You know, just to make sure she’s ok. Not to look at her in a tank top and tight fitting yoga pants with her hair in a loose pony tail and sweat dripping down her long alabaster neck. I’d never do that.

Sorry, I got a little side tracked there. So, Jeff the gym guy talked about Donna and Brett, hey, I don’t have a nick name for him. Brett…. Brett… Brett the bozo. No, too much like Bingo Bob. Brett…butthead Brett. No, too juvenile. Brett…the bore. Yes, he is possibly the most boring man I’ve ever met. He’s a big fan of western authors. Blah. Ok so, Brett the bore listened to Jeff the gym guy describing this goddess and said yes, he knew the type. There was this woman who worked in his field who had long blonde hair that looked immaculate, even after 15 hour work days, and she was sweet and funny and smart, smarter than him, and she was feisty and witty and could make a grey pair of slacks and a conservative pink sweater look sexy. And then after more comparisons, they realized they were talking about the same woman. And Brett the bore Allen knows the unwritten rule in the house. He’s received the memo, he knows Donna’s mine. And please don’t tell Donna that I speak of her as property, that’ll only get me in trouble and I don’t really mean it the way it sounds. So, he then told Jeff the gym guy about me, and since then, they’ve been plotting a way to get me out of the picture. Sure, they’ll eventually have to be against each other in the war of winning Donna’s love, but neither of them have a chance until I’m out of the picture, so they’ll work together to do that and then they’ll turn against each other. It’s like how we worked with the Soviet Union during World War II. Kind of.

So see, I’m not deranged. This is all Brett Allen’s fault. 

See, he called Toby late last night and claimed he needed to meet on the Education bill we’re working on. And, of course, Toby called me and wanted me to meet with him again, even though we covered everything on Wednesday afternoon. I all but begged Toby to do it for me, but he was meeting with the French Ambassador again, like that’s important. So, I had to meet with Brett the bore Allen this morning at 8:00am. Donna and I were scheduled to meet Jeff the gym guy at ten, and it’s now 8 minutes until 10, and I’m going to be late.

If I’m late, it’s all over for me. I know that Jeff the gym guy will ask Donna what’s up with the two of us, and she’ll innocently and flirtatiously tell him that we’re simply co-workers, and he’ll no longer be afraid of me. And she does flirt too. She does. She just doesn’t know it. It’s all in her pout and the way she tilts her head to the side and acts so innocent as she smiles. How do you think she got her job? Right. So, she’ll flirt and he won’t be afraid and then I’ll have to change tactics and be rude and have the IRS investigate him, which will get back to Donna, which will get me yelled at by both her and CJ. Again, all Brett Allen’s fault.

See, the original plan was for me to get out of the meeting by 9:15, pick up Donna, and ride together to Jeff the gym guy’s office. But at 9:40, I called to tell her I was just leaving the hill, and she told me she’d just meet me there. I screamed no, but she just asked me if I was going to act strange again today and told me that I would get there quicker if I didn’t have to go all the way to her place and then backtrack to Jeff the gym guy’s office. When I started whining, she told me I didn’t have to come at all if I was going to be a big baby, so I shut up and agreed to meet them there. Now, like I originally said, I’m driving seventy miles an hour through the streets of DC.

I pull into the parking lot just as Jeff the gym guy gets out of his car. I made it! I watch as he walks around the car and pulls Donna in for a hug that lasts too long in my opinion. To break it up, I throw my car door open and try to jump out. Unfortunately, I forget to undo my seatbelt, so it locks up on me and chokes the hell out of me, making me cough and gasp, which in turn makes them look over at me. But at least they stopped hugging.

And what’s up with that? Donna has hugged me four times in eight years. And only two of those times were initiated by her. Once when I gave her a book for Christmas with a carefully crafted and might I say well-done message, and once three days after she took me to the hospital when I cut my hand. And after that time, she hit me on the arm and yelled at me for scaring her, so I’m not sure the two don’t cancel each other out. I hugged her the night of the first election and the night of the third state of the union Address, which is also the first time I kissed her, on the cheek of course. And in Germany, there was a lot of hand holding, and I kissed her forehead a few times, but no hugs. I was afraid she’d break in half. So I’m just wondering what Jeff the gym guy did that was so fucking great that a hug was warranted.

So, I finally get my seatbelt undone and jump out of my car, trying to look as though I didn’t almost just suffocate. 

“I was wondering if you’d be joining us today Josh,” Jeff the gym guy says with a smile, shaking my hand. Of course, what he really means is ‘I was hoping you wouldn’t be joining us today Josh, because I wanted to try to sleep with your future wife at the first place we went today with a bed still in the bedroom.’ It’s all in his eyes. 

I smile back. “I wouldn’t miss it for anything.” Of course, what I really mean is, ‘You touch my future wife and mother of my 2.5 kids, and I’ll kill you, you beefcake bastard.’ Again, all in the eyes.

“You made pretty good time from the hill,” Donna says to me. Now what she’s really saying is, ‘You freak, how fast did you drive here and what is your deal lately? You’re losing your mind.’ Again, the eyes. You have to learn to read people’s eyes.

I shrug. “Lucked out with the lights I guess.” And what I really said was, ‘Aren’t I cute?’ The way she rolled her eyes tells me that she read my eyes just fine and in deed, didn’t think I was cute at all.

We take Jeff the gym guy’s pretty boy, gas guzzling, look how much money I have, sexmobile Mercedes again today and head into Virginia. “I think you’ll find that you can get a little more for your money in Virginia. You might even be able to get a small house for what a townhouse in the district would cost.”

Donna looks back at me with excitement. “I could have fourth of July parties in the back yard,” she says with one of her innocent flirty smiles. See, told you she flirts and doesn’t know it.

“I have a back yard, and you’ve never hosted a party from it,” I say. It’s a courtyard the four townhouses in my building share. Judy, from across the hall even has a garden out there and gives me tomatoes in the summer that I promptly bring in to work and give to Margaret.

“You want me to host parties from your yard?”

“I’m just saying, if you want to have a party, you could use my yard. I wouldn’t mind. I could help; it’d be fun.” When I say that, I get an even bigger smile. Taking a chance, I reach up to the front seat where she’s sitting next to Jeff the gym guy and squeeze her shoulder. She bites her lower lip and looks down shyly and I fight the urge to do a touchdown dance.

********** 

The first three places we go to are not Donna’s style at all and I have to do very little for the sub-plan. When we walk into the fourth one, however, Donna gets an expression on her face and her eyes glaze over with excitement. Oh shit.

“Do you really want to live in Virginia?” I ask her.

“It has hardwood floors,” she whispers. Women and their damn floors.

“You’d have two transfers on the metro to get to work everyday.”

“It has a huge deck,” she says in a daze. 

“And a yard that you’d have to mow every week.”

“An attached garage, Josh.” She’s still whispering. I’m gonna have to propose to keep her from buying this place.

“A driveway you’ll have to shovel in the winter,” I say weakly. I don’t think she can even hear me.

“It’s Victorian.” Ok, I don’t really know what that means, but I can tell by the way she says it that it’s a good thing. For her. Bad for me.

In near desperation, I look at Jeff the gym guy for help. “How old’s the roof?”

He looks over a sheet of paper. “The roof, HVAC, windows, security system and insulation are all brand new. The floors were just redone, the driveway was just paved, the cabinets and all appliances in the kitchen are new, the bathroom’s been redone, the deck is a year old.”

“So what,” I ask, running my fingers through my hair. “It’s the perfect house?”

He nods. “It appears so.”

I look back at her, standing in the middle of the living room looking at the vaulted ceilings. “Then how can she afford it?”

“It’s ten thousand more than she wants to pay and it’s not in the best neighborhood. Although this area is growing like crazy.”

Yes!!!! “Donna, it’s ten thousand more than you want to pay.”

“Maybe I can get them to come down five thousand. That wouldn’t up my payments too much.” She walks into the kitchen again and I follow her. I watch as she opens up every cabinet, and without even asking, I can tell she’s picturing how to arrange her dishes.

“You’re not going to get them down much. It’s only been on the market for eight days,” Jeff the gym guy says to her.

She walks from the kitchen to the deck. “I could put a grill and patio furniture out here,” she says, looking out over the yard. “And I could hang a hammock between those two trees.”

I stand at the door and watch her. She looks amazing walking around like she’s on a cloud. There’s this glint in her eyes and her mouth is open just the slightest, giving her a look of awe. As she walks the perimeter of the deck, I find myself thinking that she belongs there. The sub-plan Josh. Remember the sub-plan. This is not the time to go soft.

“All your friends live in the district.”

“Yeah,” she says. “But it’s only three blocks to the metro. I’d have to get used to the commute. People do it everyday. Did you see the tub? It’s a Jacuzzi tub.”

“There’s only one bathroom,” I say quietly. She nods.

“In a few years I could add another upstairs. I bet there’s room in the hallway over the downstairs bathroom,” she says, walking back into the house and slowly up the stairs.

“That’d be pretty expensive.”

“That’s why I’d do it in a few years.”

“You’d have to paint the living room.”

“This is the one, Josh,” she whispers to me.

“I could help paint the living room.” What? Did I just say that? What am I doing?

She snaps out of her trance and smiles at me. “You’d get more on yourself than on the walls.”

“And I’d charge you too,” I say with a smirk. Get a grip, Josh! Think of the plan. Think of the sub-plan. 

“You would, would you?”

“Yep. Two backrubs and a batch of your mother’s famous chocolate chip cookies.” In a year, I’m going to be living in the suburbs in this house. Josh Lyman, suburb guy. I guess it could be worse. It could be Wisconsin.

“Jeff, we’d better go back to your office,” she says to him, still looking at me. 

I slowly walk up to her and give her a hug, holding her a little tighter and a little closer than I need to. When I let go, I whisper, “I’ll go call Marcel’s.”


	5. The Subplan to Protect the Plan

Jeff the gym guy’s on the phone with the seller’s realtor while Donna and I continue walking around the house. It’s nice. Small, but cute. Very cozy. It could feel like home. It could feel like home? What’s happening to me? 

“We could put an office in here, maybe with a double desk,” I say, following Donna into the smallest of the bed… wait a minute. Did I say that out loud? No. Way. I did not say that out loud. Right? Please tell me I didn’t say that out loud. I look over at Donna. Oh yeah, I said that out loud.

“What?” she asks with huge eyes.

I open my mouth to speak, but nothing comes out. This isn’t happening. I’m having a nightmare. “Uh…”

“Bad news kids,” Jeff the gym guy says, walking in to the room. I could hug him. Right here, right now, I could hug the man. I literally have to hold myself back.

“What?” Donna asks, dragging her eyes away from me and looking at him.

“Someone made an offer last night and it was accepted this morning.”

“For this house?” she asks, clearly heart broken. I’m a bit taken aback too. I was picturing the double desk and playing catch with Jake in the back yard. Jake? I just named my son? I need fresh air. 

“I’m afraid so. I told the realtor to put us on as first back-up, in case the contract falls through.”

Oh no. She’s pouting. Her bottom lip has jutted out and it’s quivering just a bit. “But…” she whispers. “This was the one.”

My heart is literally breaking watching her. “Can’t we overbid them?” I ask him.

“No. Not once the contract’s in motion.”

“Can we find out who made the bid? If we can, I can make a few phone calls and…”

“Joshua…” Donna says, cutting me off.

I look over at her and speak quietly. “I can take care of this.”

She tugs on my arm and pulls me to the other side of the small room. “You are not going to sick the IRS on some poor guy who’s only mistake was finding this house before me.”

“Why not?” I ask, all the while, screaming to myself that her not getting this house is a good thing.

“Because it’s not fair.”

I shrug. “It’s fair to you.” The sub-plan, Josh. The sub-plan. What the hell are you doing?

“It’s not fair to him.”

“I don’t care about him.” 

She looks at me for a few seconds, then hugs me. I hold her a little closer and a little longer than I need to or probably should, but I don’t really care. “Thank you,” she whispers a minute later, pulling away slightly, “but no.”

Without really meaning to, I pull her close to me again. We’re just quiet for a few seconds, which is nice. Finally I whisper, “We’ll find another one.” 

She kind of tucks her head into my chest and leans her weight on me. I like that a lot more than I should. “Yeah, I just like this one.” 

“We’ll find a great one. We just have to be patient. We don’t have to buy one today.” We? What am I doing?

“Ok,” she says, not sounding totally convinced, but ready to give it another go. Maybe she didn’t notice all the ‘we’s.’ But one glance at Jeff the gym guy tells me he did.

********** 

So, we’re on our way to the next place and Donna’s noticeably quiet. She was in love with that house. I, however, am getting back in the game. I’m sub-planning and planning and all that other stuff I came along for. One good thing is I think I’ve advertently taken care of the Jeff the gym guy situation. If he was unsure before, he’s not now. 

The thing is, now I look like a loser. I look like my girlfriend’s buying a house and I’m going to move into it and sponge off of her. Basically, I look like Freeride. And you may not know this about me, but there’s a very small part of me that is arrogant and even a bit egotistical. It’s a miniscule part actually. But right now that part of me wants to set the record straight, and it’s hard to fight it.

We pull up to house number five, knowing it has no hopes of even being in the running. Unless it’s Buckingham Palace, it won’t compare to the last place. With this in mind, I start talking this one up a little. Not a lot, just enough to throw her off the scent. “It has a nice porch,” I say, cheerfully.

“Yeah,” she says in a defeated voice, getting out of the sexmobile.

“This one’s a little smaller,” says Jeff the gym guy as he unlocks the door. “But it’s in a better neighborhood.”

We walk in to a small house with carpet and plain white walls. Even I admit that it’s not comparing well to the other one. “It’s got a big kitchen,” I say, walking from the living room to the kitchen.

She sighs. “Yeah, but it’s eat in.” Apparently that’s bad. I don’t know why. I guess a separate dining room’s important for some reason. Good thing I have one at my place.

I look out the door to the back yard. It’s… how do I put this? Small. It’s small. Very small. “Not gonna be able to play catch out there,” I say quietly to myself. I’m losing my grip with reality. Thank goodness Donna’s in the other room.

“Catch?” Jeff the gym guy asks. Crap!

“Uh… yeah. At the fourth of July party she wants to have.” He nods at me like he doesn’t believe me. 

********** 

The rest of the day goes pretty much the same. She doesn’t see anything she likes after the fourth place, so I don’t have to do much trash talking. That night, I take her to the Hawk and Dove for pity drinks where she proceeds to get smashed out of her gourd. Have you ever heard that term? My dad used to say it. I don’t know if it was him or if it’s a real term, but I don’t get the whole gourd reference. Anyway…

I take her drunk ass home, I’m sure you’ve heard that term before, and have to all but carry her up the three flights of stairs to her apartment. “If I got my house, this would be easier,” she slurs out about half way up. She’s been calling it her house all night.

“Or if you weren’t drunk.”

“I’m not drunk. I’m…disorganized,” she says in a very serious voice. “Anyway, I’d still have stairs if I was sober. They were here this morning.”

“Yes, but… never mind.”

“Kay,” she says with a smile. She’s very relaxed right now. Disorganized, I don’t know about. I bet if I quizzed her over what’s on my desk right now, she’d be able to tell me. She might fall down if I let go of her, but she’s not disorganized.

“Did you know my house has hardwood floors?” she asks a minute later. She’s asked me that about ten times tonight.

I nod and use my key to let us in her apartment. “I remember.”

When we walk in, she huffs. “This isn’t my house,” she says sadly.

I take her coat from her and hang it up on the coat rack by her door. She almost falls backwards as I pull it from her shoulders. “This is your apartment.”

“It doesn’t have hardwood floors,” she says sadly.

“Nope.”

“My house has hardwood floors.”

“We’re going to find you a different house, remember?” I push her lightly back towards her bedroom. “You can take it from here, I gather.” To be honest, I’m not sure she can, but putting my assistant in pajamas most definitely is not in my job description. At least not for eleven months and twenty-one days.

“You gather what?” She’s so far gone.

“I gather… nothing. Is something wrong with your eyes.” She’s squinting and closing her eyes tightly and then opening them back up.

“My contacts are dry They’re sticking to my eyes.”

“Oh. Well, do you need help…” 

“You want to take out my contacts?” she asks.

“Gross. No.”

Her mouth drops open and she glares at me. “That’s not very nice. I always help you when you’re dru… disorganized.”

“Yes, but I’m always disorganized.”

She nods. “I know.”

I sigh. “Do you need help taking out your contacts?” Please say no. 

“No. That’s gross,” she says with a scrunched up face.

Didn’t I just get in trouble for saying that? “Alright…do you need help with anything else before I go?”

“Umm…” She looks around. “My light bulb went out in the living room.” What the hell? Do I look like Bob Villa?

“No, we just didn’t turn the lights on in there.”

“Oh. I should be ok then.”

“Alright. I’m gonna….” I hook my thumb over my shoulder.

“Kay, night.”

“Lock yourself in after I leave.” She stumbles with me to the door. “You sure you’re ok?”

“Yes,” she says nodding. “Josh?”

“Yes?” I ask as I open the door and walk out.

“When we find another house, can we still have an office with a double desk?” she asks quietly with just the beginnings of a pout.

My eyes bug out and I can’t help staring at her. And then this warm thought occurs to me. If she wants the double desk and the office, does that mean she wants Jake too? “Sure.”

“Kay!” she says happily, shutting the door behind me. 

“Kay,” I say to the empty hallway. And now I can’t wipe this grin off my face.


	6. The Subplan to Protect the Plan

“Lo?” She sounds like shit. This is gonna be fun.

“Good morning Donnatella. Do you plan on coming into work today?” I say this in a jovial voice.

“Who is this?” She asks in a growl.

“This is your employer.” And your future husband. I choose not to mention that last part out loud.

“Why are you calling me?” 

“Because it’s 8:30 and you’re not in the office.” I can just picture her, lying in bed on her stomach with her face partially buried in her pillow, hair askew, mascara smeared under her eyes, tank top twisted around her torso, blankets kicked off, right foot sticking out of the baby blue sheet that’s covering her. Maybe I should go there to work instead of making her come here. It’s just a thought.

“Who is this?” Didn’t we already determine that?

“Josh. The man whom you assist on a daily basis.” The father of your future children. The best sex of your life. The man you were destined to be with. Again, I don’t say most of that out loud.

“What time is it?” Haven’t we already determined that too? Am I this bad when she wakes me up? 

“We’ve already covered that. It’s 8:30,” I say, openly laughing at her.

“What day is it?”

“Sunday.”

“We work on Sunday?” 

“Most of them, yes. Also, we’re leaving at 1:30 to meet Jeff the gym guy, so we need to work extra hard this morning.”

”Who?”

“Does any of this ring a bell?”

“Do I know you?”

“You do, as a matter of fact. You work here at the White House with me. We do important government type work and you bring me things I need like my schedule and coffee.”

“Nice try,” she says, and I can hear her sit up.

“Sure, choose now to wake-up.”

“I still think you’re lying about the Sunday thing.”

“The number of NFL games I’ve missed in the last seven years would prove otherwise.” I don’t mention this either, but I don’t think the number of NFL games I see is going to improve all that much once I marry her.

“What time is it?” Three times? This is too fun.

“8:30.”

“You have staff at nine.” See, I told you she wasn’t disorganized. 

“I know. Although I was forced to go elsewhere for my information.”

“You could’ve looked on your computer.”

“Nah. Ginger told me.”

“Ok, I’m getting up.”

“Ok, two creams and one sweet ‘n low.”

“Fat chance.”

********** 

I come out of senior staff at 9:40 and Donna’s bright eyed and chipper at her desk, eating a bagel and drinking coffee. How is it that an hour and ten minutes ago, she sounded like she was dying and now, looking at her, you’d think she got ten hours of sleep, had a massage, a facial, her hair professionally done and took a yoga class? I get drunk, you can see it on my face for a week.

“Good morning, Donna. It was nice of you to join us today.”

“I thought so,” she says with a snarky smile while handing me a folder and a few messages as I pass by her desk. Is there any reason not to love this woman?

“Brett Allen called again? What’s his deal?” I ask myself as I head into my office looking at a message from him.

“I think he just calls to flirt with me.”

This makes me stop dead in my tracks. “Did Brett Allen ask you out?” I’ll kill him.

“What?” she asks innocently, looking up from her computer.

Remain calm. I repeat, remain calm. “Brett the bore Allen. Did he ask you out?” I can’t take two men hitting on her in the same weekend. I’m not programmed for it.

“No,” she says, looking at me like I’m insane.

I stare at her and she looks back at me like I’ve lost my mind. And if I have, it’s her fault. “Then what makes you think he was flirting with you?” 

She chuckles but CJ’s the one who answers as she walks by. “Have you ever seen her Josh? All men flirt with her.”

“Thank you,” Donna says to her, nodding.

“How’s the house hunting going?”

“It’s going,” Donna says with a frown.

“I don’t flirt with her,” I mumble as I walk into my office. I hear CJ laugh and have a sneaking suspicion it’s at me. This only makes me mumble more. 

But my mood changes when I walk into my office. Sitting on my desk is a bagel. And while there’s no coffee with it, there are two creams and a packet of sweet ‘n low. Like I said, is there any reason not to love this woman?

********** 

“Ok, we’re going to keep an open mind today.” Is she trying to convince herself?

“Right. An open mind.” No we’re not. We’re back on the sub-plan. Her pouts, her glazed over eyes, her breath catching from excitement… none of that stuff’s going to work today. I must be ruthless. I must remember the sub-plan. It’s for her own good.

“The perfect place is out there.”

“Right. It’s out there and we’ll find it.” Yes. It’s in Georgetown. It has hardwood floors and a separate dining room and an office that can easily hold a double desk. It also has a back yard with a grill, patio furniture and a garden that’s the perfect size for a fourth of July party and playing catch with Jake.

“Today’s the day. I can feel it.” What if Jake was a prodigal baseball player? What if he played for the Mets one day? I could probably convince Donna to get season tickets if our oldest son played short stop for … focus, Josh, focus. 

“Don’t set yourself up for a fall. Some people look for months before they find something they like.” Like maybe eleven months and 20 days.

Wait a minute! Am I going to spend every weekend for the next eleven months hanging out with Jeff the gym guy? And more importantly, is Donna? Great, now I’m seeing the need for another addition to the sub-plan to protect the plan. I don’t know what that addition is yet, but I see one coming on.

We pull into the parking lot and Jeff the gym guy’s standing against the sexmobile talking to some other beefcake guy. Great. That’s all I need. Isn’t it bad enough that I have Jeff the gym guy and Brett the bore? Not to mention blonde British actor guy. Do I have to compete with yet another man after my woman? Not that I’m afraid of the competition. I’ll win, of course, but it’s added stress that I don’t need.

We get out of the car and Donna greets beefcake #2 like she knows him. “Mark, hi.” How the hell does she know this guy? 

Beefcake #2 smiles and gives her a hug. Ok, I’m gonna lose it. I might look calm on the outside, but it’s all for show. I looked calm the night I nearly murdered Cliff Calley too. Why are all these men hugging my wife? I’m going to go fucking ballistic if one more beefcake hugs my wife. Just leave your fucking hands to yourself, would you?

“Josh, this is Mark,” Jeff the gym guy tells me as though I didn’t just hear Donna say that.

I look at him for a minute without shaking his hand. “Nice to meet you.” Not.

“You too.” He then turns to Donna. “I hear the perfect house slipped through your fingers yesterday.”

“Yeah.” Thanks for bringing that up, dick. Remind her, why don’t you.

“Don’t worry, you’ll find another. Jeff’s great at this.” Jeff’s great at this. Blah blah blah.

“How do you guys…” I gesture between Donna and beefcake #2.

“Oh,” Donna says. “Jeff and Mark are partners, we all go to the same gym.” Of course, that damn gym. I’ve got to bump up that part of the sub-plan. I’m doing some research tonight on gyms in her area.

“That’s great,” I say, forcing myself to smile. 

“Listen,” Jeff the gym guy says to me. “Mark’s car needs to go into the shop. I hate to ask, but would it be ok if you drove today so he can use mine?”

Oh! Beefcake #2 isn’t going with us? Yes! “Sure. No problem.” Absolutely!

**********   
The first place we go today is a small three-bedroom house in a not great neighborhood in DC. From the outside it’s cute, and I see Donna’s eyes do the glaze thing again. Look away from the eyes and focus on the sub-plan, you spineless bastard.

“This is cute,” she says, standing in the living room. It’s been freshly painted and has new carpet. It’s really small, but I don’t say that.

We walk into the kitchen, which has a door leading out to the back. Looking out the back door, I can see an alley behind the house that is disgustingly littered with trash. “That’s some view you’ve got there,” I say.

She comes over to where I’m standing, and stands so close that our shoulders are touching. I decided to use this as an opportunity and reach around her waist to open the door. Then I stand behind her with my arm still around her, my hand leaning on the doorframe. “Yes,” she says laughing. “That is quite a view.”

“That’d go well with the 4th of July picnic you’re having.”

“Oh no, we’re having that at your place. You already said we could.”

“Right,” I say with laughter in my voice, although my heart does a flip-flop at the idea of co-hosting a party with Donna. A minute later, we turn around and Jeff the gym guy’s staring at us. That’s right buddy. You and your beefcake friend can just step back. 

“Is there a dining room?” Donna asks him.

“Nope, it’s an eat in kitchen.”

“Where the hell are you supposed to put a table?” I ask. This kitchen is very, very small.

“That’s a good question.”

We go down a hall to the two downstairs bedrooms. “These are decent size,” Donna says. “Small closets though.”

I walk into the second bedroom and look around. “Um... actually, this one doesn’t seem to have a closet at all.”

“What?”

I shrug. “There’s no closet in here.”

She walks in the room, followed by Jeff the gym guy. “Can it even be called a bedroom if it doesn’t have a closet?”

He shrugs. “You could use it as an office.”

Finally, we go upstairs to the third bedroom. Kind of. There is no bedroom. There’s a crawl space with no electricity and a space for a half door. Literally, if this was a bedroom, you’d have to crawl into it. “This is the third bedroom?” Donna asks.

“Um…”

“They might be able to call that other room a bedroom, but this?” I ask him. It has no floor. It’s an attic. What the hell?

“I’m calling the realtor,” Jeff the gym guy says, walking back down the stairs. “They’re misrepresenting this place.”

“I think I’m ready to go the next place,” Donna says smiling. 

“Good, I was about to start taking pictures for your father.”

********** 

The next place we go is bizarre looking. It’s… I don’t know. It looks huge from the outside, but only has about 1300 square feet. And it’s brick with big white pillars in the front, almost like a small plantation from the Civil War days. Plus, it looks about that old, and not in a restored good way.

We go inside and the living room is long but narrow. There’s a fireplace at one end, which Donna makes a note of. Why do people want fireplaces in their homes? I have one and I’ve never lit it. Not once in the seven years I’ve lived there.

We keep walking around the small house, and find that it’s formatted oddly. For one thing, the master bedroom is right off the kitchen, and there’s supposed to be one and a half baths, but we haven’t found the half yet. And the upstairs is just one big room. It’s a bedroom, but the ceiling follows the room, so one entire side of it’s at a slope, which is just…odd.

“This is nice,” Donna says, looking out back door to the decent sized back yard.

“This is cool. Like some old Hitchcock movie,” I say casually. Donna gets freaked out by Horror movies. Let’s see how this works. 

“Josh!”

“What?” I ask innocently.

“I…you compared the house to Hitchcock?”

I nod, still playing innocent. “Yeah. It’s got narrow hallways and that room upstairs with the shadows on the wall. It’s cool. That room would make a great office.”

Her mouth drops open and she stares at me. Then she walks back upstairs and I wait. When she comes back down, she turns to Jeff the gym guy. “This place gives me the creeps.” And that, ladies and gentlemen, is how the sub-plan works.


	7. The Subplan to Protect the Plan

“Wood paneling?”

“People like it.”

“Really?”

“Some, yes.”

“Donna! You wanna come into the living room and check this out?” 

“Coming. Whoa...wood paneling?”

“Jeff the…Jeff says that some people like it.”

“Really?”

“Apparently so.”

“Hmm…I think I’m ready to go to the next place.”

********** 

“I thought this was remodeled, why are the windows boarded up?”

“They’re probably still finishing things up.”

“The windows are boarded up on that one and the one over there too.”

“They could be trying to keep people from crawling into the house.” 

“What?” 

“It’s not a great neighborhood.”

“Josh, you’re backing up. We haven’t looked at it yet, why are we leaving?”

“Donnatella, this isn’t the one.”

“Can’t we at least go in and look at it?”

“At a place in which you’re going to have to keep your windows boarded up?”

“Just to see?”

“Don’t make me get out the camera phone, Donnatella.”

“Do you even know how to use that thing?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?”

********** 

“I feel like I’m leaning to the left.”

“I think this house is on a slope.” 

“Is that even safe?” 

“It’s kind of awesome in here. The ceilings are so high, and there’s so much light.”

“Why does the floor move when we walk?” 

“It’s not on a slab.”

“I feel like I’m going to fall through the floor.” 

“Where’s the third bedroom?” 

“You’re in it, I think.”

“But… you have to go through this room to get to the kitchen.”

“It’s a walk-through bedroom.”

“Am I the only one who notices that the floor bounces?” 

“This is the only bathroom?” 

”Yes.”

“You have to go into the walk-through bedroom to use the restroom?”

“Maybe this is the living room and that’s the third bedroom.”

“But the door to the outside’s in that room.”

“Yeah.”

“I feel like I’m going to fall over.” 

“I don’t think this is the one.”

********** 

“The washer and dryer stay in this one.”

“What’s that smell?”

“How about the other appliances?”

“They stay too.”

“Is that a dead animal or something?” 

“It probably crawled into the basement and died.”

“Two baths?”

“Or into the walls.”

“The walls?”

“Sure.”

“That’s unlikely.”

“In a house this old? And if it’s in the wall, you’ll never get it out.”

“It’s probably just in the basement.”

“Lot’s of woods around here. I’d have Terminex check for brown recluse.”

“Spiders?”

“Deadly ones. Have you ever seen a picture of someone with a brown recluse bite? It’s disgusting.”

“I don’t think they’re this far north.”

“Josh is right. It smells in here.”

“I’m sure it’s nothing.”

“That’s easy for you to say. You don’t have to live here.”

********** 

“The key won’t turn?”

“It’s just stubborn. I’ll get it.”

“There’s a cop car. That’s nice. That makes me feel safe.”

“Uh oh.”

“What?”

“Now the key’s stuck.”

“Let’s go around the back and look in through the windows.”

“Uh oh.”

“What?”

“The key broke.”

“Hmm… I don’t think we’re getting in there today.”

“But I like this one.”

“You like them all until we go inside.”

“Not the one with the boarded up windows.”

“No, that was me who wouldn’t allow that one.”

“Wouldn’t allow?”

“Bad choice of words.”

“Ok, I called the realtor. She said the key was for the back door.”

“That would’ve been nice to know a few minutes ago.”

“Yes.”

“Can she bring us another key?”

“The owner lives out of town. It’s going to take a week to get it.”

“Well then, I guess we’re done here for now.”

“Guess so.”

********** 

“Have you read this notice?”

“No.”

“I think you should.”

“Why?”

“Just… read it.”

“Just tell me what it says, Josh.”

“It’s a notice required by Virginia law to inform you that a homicide took place at this residence.”

“Well, that does it. I’m not living here.”

********** 

“This one needs a new roof.”

“Are you sure?”

“Look at it. It’s caving in.”

“How much is a new roof?”

“Ten to fifteen thousand.”

“Are you serious?”

“Afraid so.”

“Well, I like it…”

“But not another fifteen thousand dollars worth?”

“Exactly.”

********** 

“Why does that for sale sign have a sold on top of it?”

“I guess it sold since I called about it on Friday.”

“I guess there’s no use going in it.”

“Guess not.”

“Too bad. I had a good feeling about this place.”

“Right.”

********** 

“I’m beat.”

“Me too.”

“I’m starving.”

“Chinese?”

“Yeah, but at my place, so I can wear pajamas.”

“No. You can wear something of mine. The same can’t be said for me.”

“I have some pink flannel pajama bottoms you’d look cute in.”

“Like I said, my place.”

“Fine, but I’m wearing your Mets t-shirt.”


	8. The Subplan to Protect the Plan

She takes a bite of my egg roll while I eat some of her cashew chicken. “Today was…”

“Entertaining?” I had fun. Well, once we got rid of beefcake #2 I had fun. I would’ve had even more fun had we gotten rid of Jeff the gym guy as well. And let’s face it, I would’ve had even more fun than that had we been naked.

“Depressing.”

“Why?” I ask with a full mouth.

“Because. That’s my price range. Homes with bad roofs and foul smells and wood paneling where homicides have taken place and the floor moves beneath your feet.”

Ok, here’s my chance. Be understated; don’t be obvious. “Maybe you should consider waiting a while,” I say as casually as possible.

“What difference would that make?”

You’ll be living with me in eleven months and 20 days. “We’ve got less than a year in office. Things could change for you financially once we leave.” You could be sponging off me. I’d be ok with it; in face, I’d welcome it.

She narrows her eyes at me. “Are you trying to tell me something?”

Yes. You and I are going to get married and have lots and lots of sex and argue over stupid things like mayonnaise vs. miracle whip and Heinz vs. Hunts, but agree on important things like children and gun control. “I’m just saying that whatever we do next might mean that you could afford more.” Mayonnaise and Heinz, by the way.

“Whatever we do next?” she asks with large eyes, stressing the word ‘we.’

I stare at her. What’s she getting at? “Of course.”

She takes a second to recover. “So you’re just assuming we’re still going to work together?” She’s trying to make me squirm, but her smile gives her away.

I smirk and take a bite of my beef and broccoli. “You weren’t assuming the same thing?”

She shrugs. “I’ve considered continuing to grace you with my daily presence.”

“How kind of you…”

“I’m going to want to change some things, however,” she says, taking another bite of my egg roll. 

“As am I.” Your last name, for one.

“One of those things being…what I do,” she says.

I smile. “Yes, that’s one of the things on my list as well.”

“Really?” she asks, smile beaming at me. I’m not going to tell her, but I think she’d be interested to see how else our lists match up.

I smile back. “Really.” She steals yet another bite of my egg roll, and I grab the last little bit of it out of her hand and pop it into my mouth.

“So… what else is on this list of things to change?” she asks a minute later, feigning innocence. See, I told you she’d be interested. 

Nice try my worthy opponent. “Well, definitely the number of egg rolls we get when we order Chinese…”

********** 

Donna and I had a little clarity on Sunday night over Chinese food, where we determined… well, I’m not really sure what we determined, but things were insinuated, so I’m thinking that maybe she got the underlying meaning there and isn’t gong to be so pressed to buy a house. 

In fact, it’s Wednesday, and the subject of the house hasn’t been mentioned much so far this week. Granted, we’ve pretty much looked at everything that’s in her price range, which means we can’t do anything else until some new things come on the market, but I’m thinking that the sub-plan to protect the plan has worked. I still have the addition to the sub-plan to take care of, which is of course getting Donna out of the beefcake gym she goes to, but yesterday I suggested an all female gym a mile from her place and she laughed at me, so that part of the sub-plan might take a little finagling. It’s a word.

So, I’m thinking that things are looking up. To be safe, I’ve kept Donna working late for the last two nights and plan on keeping her late tomorrow and Friday, in case Jeff the gym guy or beefcake #2, or for that matter Brett the bore Allen gets any ideas about a date, and just to be safe, I’ve gotten online, gotten the name of blonde British actor guy, Paul Bettany, and it doesn’t appear that he’s filming anywhere in the DC area for the foreseeable future.

Yes, my life is good. Things are looking up. I, Josh Lyman, master politician and fabulous lover, am eleven months and seventeen days from the promise land. The promise land, of course, being engagement, kissing, sex and living with one Donnatella Moss. Things are good. Things are great. Things are spectacular.

Hmm… that’s odd. I just got out of a three-day meeting with the House Ways and Means committee, which isn’t one of my favorite committees for reasons that don’t need to be discussed, and Donna isn’t here. Ok, a three-hour meeting, but it felt like three days.

Anyway, Donna’s not at her desk, and her coat’s gone. That’s odd, considering it’s only 3:15 in the afternoon. I go into my office to call her and I see a post-it note on my computer screen. 'Josh, hot lead on a house, had to go. Donna.' What?????

Immediately, I grab my cell and call her. What the hell’s going on?

“Hello?”

“Where are you?”

“Didn’t you get my post-it?”

“Yes, but… where are you?”

“I’m on my way to Dupont Circle to meet Mark and Jeff. A place came on the market today and it seems to be a great deal, so we’re going to check it out. Jeff thinks it’ll go quick. Dupont’s a very hot area.” 

“Mark and Jeff?” Mark AND Jeff? What the hell am I gonna do now?

“Yeah. Sorry I left, but there was no time to waste. I’ll come back when we’re done.”

“Mark AND Jeff?”

“You just asked that. Yes.”

“But…”

“I know you wanted to help, but it’s not like you could’ve just left the meeting.”

“Mark AND Jeff?”

“Are you ok?”

“I… should… I don’t think… Mark AND Jeff? Is Brett Allen gonna be there too?” What the hell’s going on? I thought I’d nipped it. The sub-plan and… it was just a meeting. How did things get so crazy so fast? 

“Congressman Allen? What are you talking about?” Brett Allen? I said that out loud?

“Don’t go!” Don’t go? I said that out loud too? I told her not to go? I’m panicking. Calm down, Josh. Breathe.

“Don’t go?”

“Don’t go. Please.”

“Why?”

“It’s not… because... you need… these guys….”

“Please form a complete sentence.”

“I’m… how far are you from there?”

“Five minutes. I’m meeting them in fifteen.”

“Fifteen?” Can I get to Dupont Circle in fifteen minutes? I grab my wallet and run for the door.

“Yes. Jeff’s coming from the office and they live a few blocks from where we’re going, so Mark’s meeting us there.”

“What’s the address?”

“Why?”

“I’ll meet you there. I can get there in fifteen minutes.” 

“Josh, that’s not necessary.”

“Donna….”

“Josh, I’m an adult, I can look at a house without your supervision.”

“Please…” I’ve resorted to whining.

“Why?”

“I want to help!” I want to sub-plan my way out of this nightmare. 

“Josh, it’s really…”

I cut her off. “I’m already hailing a cab Donna, just give me the address.”

She sighs. “You’ll be nice?”

“I’m always nice.” She mumbles something under her breath about my niceness and gives me the address.

********** 

I jump in a cab and promise the driver a large tip if he gets me there quick, and then I sit back and try to come up with a plan. A sub-plan. A sub-sub-plan. What the fuck ever, I’m having a crisis here, work with me.

Dupont Circle? Dupont fucking Circle? Dupont Circle is THE area of town. It has awesome restaurants, great nightclubs, posh stores… what if she loves this place? What then? I think I’m hyperventilating.

Do you see what they’ve done? Jeff the gym guy and beefcake #2 both live in the area. They’re trying to get her near them so they have more access to her than I do. It’s a conspiracy I tell you. A conspiracy!

And before you say anything, yes I realize that saying that makes me sound a bit like Mel Gibson in that Julia Roberts movie where he was a paranoid freak. But he turned out to be right, didn’t he? See?

No need to panic, right? I’m a politician. I deal with highly important things all the time, I can do this. I advise the President of the United States for cryin’ out loud. This is nothing. This is two men who want to get with my woman. No big deal. Men have been trying this for eight years. It’s me she loves. I don’t need to be a jealous freak.

And as far as the townhouse goes, we haven’t seen even one place in her price range here, which means that this must be the trashiest place in the neighborhood. I mean, that makes sense, right? Right? Why am I asking you? You’re not even here; you’re just in my mind. I’m losing it…

The cab comes to a stop in front of a very cute townhouse, damn it. Beefcake #2 and Donna are already there talking, which I’m obviously not thrilled about. What to do? What to do? I practically jump out of the cab, this time remembering my seatbelt, and rush up to them.

Beefcake #2 says hello to me as I grab Donna’s hand and start pulling her down the sidewalk. “I need Donna a minute.”

“What’s up?” she asks when we get about twenty feet away. I don’t let go of her hand, which is primarily for beefcake #2’s benefit, but is also rather nice to hold on to. 

“What? Nothing.”

Now she’s looking at me like I’ve completely lost my mind, which isn’t far from the truth. “Then… why did you drag me over here? Didn’t you need something?”

“Right. Yes, of course. I needed…” what did I need? What the hell did I need?

“Josh, you’re acting so weird.” She actually looks worried about me. Not pissed, just worried. She’s so sweet. No wonder I love this woman.

“I just…” what? I just what? “I’m going to need some research done when we get back to the office.” Research? On what?

“Ok, I can do….” She’s still talking, but something just caught my eye, dragging my attention away from her. Something amazing! Something spectacular! Something that I couldn’t have hoped for! It’s like an answer to my prayers, a gift from the Almighty, a dream come true. Life is good. Life is great! Life is more than I could have hope for! I… maybe I should’ve seen this coming, but I don’t even care that I missed it. I just care that it’s happening. Right now! My life is taking a turn for the better. YES!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 

“Josh? What are you staring at?”


	9. The Subplan to Protect the Plan

“They’re kissing,” I whisper, still in awe at my luck.

“I can see that. I doubt they want an audience. Stop staring at them.”

“But… they’re kissing... each other.” Can’t she see this?

“That’s often what two people who are dating do when they see each other.” Right about this time, they stop kissing and look over at Donna hitting me in the arm. My eyes bug out and I jerk my head away from them and back to Donna. 

“Donna! They were kissing. I think they’re gay!” I’m doing a whisper scream so they can’t hear me. You know… a whisper scream.

“Rather astute observation.”

“I’m serious!”

“Josh, I told you on Sunday that they're partners.”

No she didn’t, she said they were… oh. “I thought you meant business partners.” 

She shakes her head at me. “Mark’s a lawyer.”

“You knew about this?”

She’s looking at me like I’m a complete idiot. Am I a complete idiot? “Yes.”

“So they aren’t hitting on you?” Please tell me I didn’t say that out loud.

She rolls her eyes. “Not all men hit on me, Josh.”

“Yes they do! That’s what CJ said.” I said that out loud too? 

She stares at me like she might hit me. She stares at me like that a lot actually. “Is that what this is all about? You’ve been helping me to make sure Jeff and Mark don’t hit on me?”

“No. Absolutely not. No.” I shake my head back and forth really fast and several times, but I don’t think she’s buying it.

“It is,” she says loudly, hitting me on the arm again. It hurts when she does that. I can take it, I am a man. I’m just saying, she’s pretty strong… for a girl.

“No. I’m just trying to help.”

“Joshua. Telling me the truth now will help you. It might even prolong your life,” she says through gritted teeth. My life’s in danger? I glance over at Jeff and Mark silently begging them to help. “They’re not going to help you. They think you’re a lunatic. Spill Lyman.”

They think I’m a lunatic? “I’m… Jeff and Mark are waiting on us.”

“Jeff and Mark? Not Jeff the gym guy and beefcake #2?”

Oh shit. “I… um… I’m trying not to piss you off anymore than necessary?”

“Meaning, they’re no longer the enemy, so you don’t feel the need to berate them.”

Exactly. “I never thought they were the enemy; they’re just…growing on me.” 

“Bull shit.” Well, alrighty then.

“They’re waiting Donna. Let’s talk about this later.” Please don’t make me admit my Neanderthal behavior and undying love in front of them. Please…

She looks at me again for several seconds before slowly saying, “I think that’s a good idea.” Then she walks past me and towards Jeff and Mark.

I stand there a second and then jog to catch up to her. Just as I get there, I hear Donna tell them I’m leaving. “Josh has a work emergency. He has to go.”

“I can stay.”

She smiles at them before turning back to me and giving me the glare-smile. You know the one. “That’s ok. I’m fine here with these two. You go back and take care of that problem. We wouldn’t want anyone getting hurt.” The way she says the end of the sentence lets me know that I’m the one who might be getting hurt. 

“Ok,” I say solemnly. “You’ll come back to the office when you’re done here and help me with the problem?”

She smiles eerily. “You bet.”

So as to not get myself killed, I shake Mark and Jeff’s hand. “I’m sorry I can’t stay. It was nice seeing you both.”

“You too,” says Jeff. They turn around and head into the townhouse while I hail a cab.

********** 

Ok, so… that went… well, not at all good. Bad would be a term associated with what happened back there. Very bad, even.

This is all her fault really. If she hadn’t tried to deviate from the plan, none of this would be happening. If she had just stuck with the End of the Administration plan, this wouldn’t be an issue. And let’s think about this for a minute. Are you and I really supposed to believe that she doesn’t know about the End of the Administration plan? Really? This is Donnatella Moss, the reader of minds. This is the woman who knows me better than anyone ever has. Most of the time, she knows what I’m thinking before I know it, and yes, I’m well aware that means she may very well be planting those thoughts in my head, but I’ve come to grips with it. I’m just saying, if she can read my mind, then she knows about the End of the Administration plan.

And here’s the proof. Let’s review that conversation she and I just had. Obviously she knows I don’t want another man touching her. She said I looked at Jeff and Mark as the enemy. She accused me of coming with her so they couldn’t hit on her, which, by the way, is only half the truth. And if she knows I don’t want her to date other men, then she must know why, and if she knows why, then she must be aware of the plan. Right? 

I mean, she might not be completely set on the exact details of the plan. She might not know that I’ve picked out the ring. She might not know about the down on one knee in the bullpen thing, she might not know that I’ve booked the moving company, but she knows the general gist of the plan. You know damn well she knows that we’re not making it to the bed the first time we have sex. You think she isn’t counting the days just as much as I am. How do you think I even found out the date we leave office? She had it on her calendar in red ink circled several times.

So, now that we know she knows the plan, let’s talk about this house non-sense. Why is she buying a house? Is she trying to get me to show my hand? Is this all some ploy to get me to admit the plan? Is this a sub-plan of its own, making my sub-plan a sub-sub-plan? Is she too impatient to wait for the down on one knee in the bullpen?

And speaking of that, can we go off topic for just a few seconds? Is it lame to propose to her in the bullpen? I just thought it would be sweet to propose the very second that I could. To do it right there so the men would hoop and holler, it’s a term, and the women would ooh and ahh, also a term, over the ring. But if you think it’s lame… no, never mind. I like it. Donna’ll like it. It’s a statement. I don’t care what you think.

Ok, back to topic. Is this house hunting a way to get me to admit the plan? Or… is this her way of telling me she’s changed her mind? She no longer loves me; she no longer wants to build a life with me. She’s not interested in the plan, and she wants me to know it before I make a fool of myself in the bullpen? Could that be it? Please say that’s not it.

Or, could it be that she’s never wanted the plan? That I’ve been misinterpreting her intentions from the beginning? And again, she’s trying to point that out before I drop to one knee and propose to her in front of everyone we know. No. That’s not it. Right?

“I think it sounds like a sweet way to propose.”

I jerk my head up from the strip club advertisement on the back of the seat in front of me and look at the cab driver. “What?”

“I don’t understand your plan or whatever. To tell the truth, you’re not making any sense at all when it comes to that. But…I think the proposal sounds nice, and I’ve heard the whooping and hollering term before. Are you gonna have flowers?”

My eyes bug out of my head and I stare dumbfounded at him. I said all that out loud???????????

********** 

A half hour later, Toby walks into my office. “I’m bored. How is it that I have nothing to do?”

“I’m losing my grip on realty.”

“That could be entertaining,” he says, sitting in a chair in my office and looking at me as though he actually expects to see it happening. I have the urge to ask if he wants popcorn.

“I doubt it. It was never a strong grip.”

“True. What else have you got?”

“Donna’ll be here in a little bit to yell at me.” His eyebrows peak in excitement. “But not for anything you haven’t heard before.”

“About the house sabotaging?”

“No, about prohibiting gay men from hitting on her.”

“Gay men? You can’t let her have any fun at all?”

“I didn’t know they….wait a minute.” I get up and shut the door, then sit back down in my chair. “How did you know about the sub-plan?”

“The sub-plan?”

“The sub-plan to protect the plan.”

“The plan being… marrying Donna the second we leave office?”

“Yes, although now I’m wondering how you know about that plan too.”

“Everyone knows about that plan. There’s talk that you might drop to a knee in the bullpen. Of course, there’s also talk that you might have sex on your desk.” Yes! Desk sex.

“Don’t think I haven’t considered it.”

“I’m sure you have. Spare me the details.”

“How do you know about the sub-plan?”

“The sub-plan to protect the plan?” 

“How many sub-plans to you think I have?”

He shakes his head. “I couldn’t begin to guess.”

“Are you going to answer the question?”

“You had no choice. Of course you were sabotaging the house hunt. You’re marrying her in a little under a year.”

Finally, someone on my side! “So I’m right!”

“No.”

“No?”

“No. You had no choice. There’s a difference.”

“What do I do now?”

He shrugs. “She doesn’t know about it, keep it up.”

“She wouldn’t let me go with her today because of the gay realtor thing.”

“Ahh...”

“How am I supposed to sabotage what I can’t see?”

“You need help.”

“Yes! You go with her.” He’s brilliant!

“No.”

“No?”

“No. The gay realtor. He’s your help.”

“What?”

“You’ve got to get the realtor to help.”

“How?”

“I have no idea, but I’d guess it’s going to include begging.”


	10. The Subplan to Protect the Plan

I sit and stare at the phone on my desk for fifteen minutes. Jeff the gym guy is my help? How? Is Toby slowly losing his mind? Or am I losing mine not so slowly? How am I supposed to go to this man who, until forty-five minutes ago I thought was trying to steal Donna from me? What am I supposed to say to him? ‘Sorry I thought you wanted my future wife. Now that I know you’re gay, can we work together to make sure she doesn’t thwart my plans?’ That doesn’t seem to be the way to go. Maybe I should say something like, ‘Please keep showing Donna nothing but crap for the next eleven months, then it’ll be time for her to move in with me and you’ll be out any commission whatsoever.’ Yeah, I’m sure he’ll like that better. 

I finally catch a glimpse of Donna walking past my office. I’ve been back for an hour, so I’m somewhat scared. It only takes about ten minutes to go through a house unless you really like it, so I’m worried that she loved it. She wasn’t gone long enough to put an offer in on it, right? Unless of course, she sent Jeff to the office and he’s going to fax the paperwork to her here. Is that what’s happening? I mean, we were only in the homicide house for a minute and a half!!!! 

Or…what if it did only take ten minutes to go through the house and then she went driving around to let her anger for me boil over and I’m about to get it big time. My only comfort on that thought being that this building is full of secret service agents, so I’m probably not in physical danger. At least not until we leave.

She goes straight to her desk and starts working instead of coming in here and yelling at me, which scares me as well, because I don’t know what to make of it. Is she so mad that she isn’t speaking to me? I’d rather her yell, then it gets out in the open and out of her system. And what if she’s waiting on the fax from Jeff? I’m going absolutely insane, this house-hunting thing can send a person to the looney bin.

Finally, she walks into my office with her head buried in one file while handing me another. Then she turns around to walk out, and I know I have to stop her. “Donna.”

She takes a deep breath and stops walking, still facing the door and away from me. “I don’t want to argue right now,” she says in a controlled voice.

“I don’t want to argue at all. How was the place?” Please say you hated it. Please say you hated it. Hell, say it was the most amazing townhouse in the world and that you’re moving in tomorrow as long as you say it in a voice that sounds like you don’t hate me.

She shrugs and turns around slowly. “It was nice,” she says in a sad voice that sounded almost like it had a tear behind it. Oh hell, she’s pouting. What happened? 

“What happened?” I ask in a demanding voice as I stand up and walk to the front of my desk.

“Nothing.”

I will kill those sons of bitches. “Did Jeff or Mark…”

She cuts me off. “No.” 

“Did it sell already? Cause we can take care of that Donna. I know you didn’t want me to before, but…”

She shakes her head and looks down, cutting me off again. “It didn’t sell.”

“Then what?” And what am I doing? The sub-plan Josh! Look away from the pout and keep your mind on the sub-plan.

“It wasn’t fun,” she says quietly, kicking the corner of the chair by her foot.

This response confuses me. “What?”

She shrugs again. “I don’t know. It wasn’t fun. Mark and Jeff walked around the place holding hands and talking about what could be done to each room; they had fun. You go house hunting with your… it’s not fun buying a house alone. Admitting that you’re going to live alone for the rest of your life.”

“Donna, the rest of your life?” I ask with a smile.

“At least the foreseeable future. It’s like admitting defeat.” I am so in love with this woman.

“Have you felt like this the whole time?” She shakes her head back and forth and looks up at me shyly.

I try to suppress the grin on my face, but I can feel it appearing on it’s own. I don’t want to jump to any conclusions here, but was it fun before because she was looking with me and I’m her…. that she was talking about? “Why not?” 

She just shrugs and keeps looking at me with that pout on her face and I’m tempted to kiss it off of her. Sure, I’ve been tempted before, but this is perhaps the most tempted I’ve ever been, and believe me, that’s quite a tempt. I mean, this is the woman who caused me countless fantasies by wearing a certain red dress. This is the woman who kept me up nights thinking of her and a sixteen year-old punk named Freddy. This is a woman whom I almost proposed to the night of the second inauguration. This is the woman I almost killed a photojournalist for, not to mention a lawyer from Ways and Means. And this moment, in my office on a Wednesday afternoon, while she’s wearing a simple gray pair of pants and a pink sweater with her bottom lip stuck out is the moment I’m not going to be able to stop myself? Step away from the woman, Josh. Step away from the woman.

I take a deep breath and one step backwards, and she obviously takes this as some sort of refusal from me, because she looks down at the ground again and kicks at the chair. “I gotta get back to work,” she says quietly before turning around and walking to the door.

And I know. Watching her right there, I know. I can’t let her leave. I can’t let her stay unhappy. “Donna. I’m sorry you didn’t have fun. And I’m sorry I was an idiot about Jeff and Mark. I do want to help you with the house. I wasn’t just going to…”

“But it was that a little bit, right?” She turns around and asks, sounding almost hopeful and again, I try unsuccessfully to stop the smile on my face.

“Well,” I say, flashing my dimples. “Since I was already there…”

She smiles too, which makes me inexplicably happy. “You’re impossible.”

I walk back to my chair and sit down. “You should’ve seen it coming, it was no different than how I usually act around your gomers.”

Finally, her smile reaches her eyes. “Ahh… I was wondering when we’d get to that word. And how was I supposed to know your… bizarre behavior was because of a gay man?” She both know that the ‘bizarre behavior’ is really jealousy, but since a boss would never be jealous of an employee, we’re careful not to call it that. You understand. 

“How was I supposed to know he’s gay?”

She raises her eyebrows at me. “Well, for one thing, I told you.”

“Well…yeah, I guess.” 

********** 

“What if I altered the plan?” I ask, plopping into the couch in his office. I don’t want to say anything, but why is his office three times the size of mine? And this is one comfortable couch, I should know, I’ve slept on it countless times. 

“What plan?” By the way, don’t tell Donna about me sleeping here.

“What plan? The plan.” He looks up and gives me the ‘I’ve got work to do’ look. “Don’t give me that look, you said you were bored.”

“Not bored enough to give advice about love.”

“There’s a good chance you’ll be able to make fun of me at some point during the conversation.”

He looks at me for a second, and then puts down his notebook. “Good point. Shoot.”

“Ok, what if I altered the plan?”

“I don’t know what the plan is. I’m going to need details.”

What? “You said everyone knew the plan.”

He looks at me like I’ve lost it. Why do people keep looking at me like that? Could it be the conversations I keep having aloud that I think aren’t aloud? “I said everyone knows what plan?”

“The End of the Administration plan.”

“It has a name?”

“Of course. All good plans have names.”

“And I said everyone knows this plan?”

“Dropping to one knee and proposing in the bullpen, taking her back…”

He cuts me off. “You’re really going to do that?” His eyes bug completely out of his head and it occurs to me that I’ve never seen his face with this much expression before. Hmm…

I nod. “Yes.”

He stares at me for a few seconds. “That’s just an office joke because no one thinks you’ll be able to wait very long after we leave office.”

“Oh…”

“There’s really a plan?”

“You said you knew there was!”

“I just… I meant…I knew you’d start dating her once the term was over. That’s all I was saying.”

“Oh….”

“You’re gonna propose to Donna in the bullpen? When?”

I shrug. “January 19th at 5:00pm. That’s when she won’t be my employee anymore.” 

“Is this a joke?”

I shake my head. “I even have a ring picked out.”

“You don’t think you should date her first?” I love how Toby can be completely freaking out and still have a nonchalant sound to his voice.

“Nah.”

“So… the sub-plan is protecting a real plan,” he says, standing up and pacing a little.

“Yes.” 

“And now you’d like to alter that plan.”

“Yes.”

“How?”

“I don’t know. How ‘bout I propose to her today instead?”

He stops walking and gapes at me. “In the bullpen?” 

“No, well…no.”

“Josh, you can’t be engaged to Donna yet.”

“Why not?”

He rubs his head and looks back at me. “Because you can’t date Donna yet,” he says quietly.

“I won’t date her, I’ll just be engaged to her,” I say, propping my feet up on his coffee table.

“And you think you’re gonna be engaged to her and not be tempted to…date her.”

“To sleep with her you mean?”

He nods. “Yes.”

“You have a valid point.”

“Almost always. Anyway, it’s not the plan that needs altered,” he says, walking to his door, looking out in the hallway and then shutting us in before resuming his pacing. What is he, a spy?

“It’s not?”

“No, it’s the sub-plan.” He rubs his head again. “God help me, now I’m talking like you.”


	11. The Subplan to Protect the Plan

"Call him."

"I don't want to call him."

"Call him."

"No."

"Ok, you're on your own then."

"No! I need your help!"

"Then call him."

"Fine. I hate you."

"I don't care."

**********

Two hours later, I send Donna home and Toby and I go to meet Jeff and Mark at Mac's. I pick up my cell and talk to Toby while I dial. "What if he tells Donna?"

Toby shrugs. "You're going to have to play off his emotions. Make it sound like a romantic gesture."

"It is a romantic ges…. Yes, I'll hold."

"The big thing is, how's he gonna take the fact that he isn't getting a commission off this?"

"I'll promise to use him if we decide to buy instead of staying in the condo."

"A house?"

"Yeah… yes, I need to place an order for delivery. Yes, I'll hold. What the hell? I just was holding."

"You're gonna buy a house?"

I shrug. "If she wants to. She went gaga over a house in Virginia last weekend. It was cute."

"You're gonna move to Virginia?" Granted, I'm not the suburb type.

"If Donna's there, I'll move to Alaska….I've been holding. Fine." I turn to Toby. "It's 6:00pm on a Wednesday? How busy can they be?"

"Who are you calling?"

"Dom… yes. I need to place an order for delivery… one large thin crust pizza, cheese only… can I pay for that over the phone with my credit card, please?" I give him my credit card number and Donna's  
address and hang up. Then I look over at Toby and the expression on his face. "What?"

"You ordered Donna a pizza?"

I shrug. "She had a bad day."

"And you have her address memorized?" he asks as though I must've ordered pizza for her before, which I have.

"That's not normal?" I ask in mock confusion. He shakes his head and smiles. Yeah, I'm so far gone.

**********

We get to Mac's and Jeff and Mark are sitting in a booth near the bar. When I called Jeff and asked him to meet me for a drink, he was obviously surprised and probably a little confused. The speed of how  
quickly he mentioned bringing Mark along made me think he thought I was hitting on him.

Jeff and Mark are drinking margaritas as Toby and I approach the table and I immediately feel like I'm on a double date. And while I don't have a problem with gay men, I wouldn't want anyone to mistake me for dating Toby. Let's be realistic, I could do much better than him.

"Which one did you think wanted Donna?" Toby asks quietly as we get closer.

I look at them. "Both of them."

"You're a tad on the paranoid side."

"She's a beautiful woman, Toby."

"Yes she is."

"Hey!" I shout loud enough to draw Jeff and Mark's attention. Toby gives me an evil smile and introduces himself to them.

After we sit down, I order a beer and Toby orders a gin and tonic, then silence falls over the table. Finally, Jeff turns to me. "What can I do for you, Josh?"

"Right, I… uh…" I look over at Toby who nods at me to keep going.

"This is about Donna's house search I take it," he says.

"Yeah. I ahh…I need a favor."

"Ok…" he says slowly, still confused. Why can't he just read my mind? Please don't make me say this out loud.

"See… Donna and I… there's only a year left in the term, and….well, if she buys…I…I have a plan…" I trail off and Jeff and Mark look at me like I've lost my mind. Which, let's face it, I have.

"For God sakes," Toby says. "He's in love with Donna." My mouth drops open and I stare dumbfounded at him. I can't believe he'd just throw that out there like that.

"Yeah, we know," says Mark, and I jerk my head around and stare dumbfounded at him.

"What do you mean, you know?" I screech at him.

"You're fairly obvious," Jeff says to me.

"I'm not obvious!" He raises his eyebrows at me. "I mean, yeah, to you. But I was trying to send you a signal, you know, to stay the hell away from her. For the most part, though, I'm not obvious. I've been keeping this a secret for years."

"Not well," says Toby under his breath, which makes Mark laugh.

"Toby!"

"A double desk in the office?" Jeff asks me in an amused voice.

"You heard that?"

He laughs. "I thought she was going to pass out. The look on her face was priceless. I take it you haven't told her."

"No I haven't told her!" I shout. "Why would I do something like that? That's preposterous."

"So, you see why he needs your help," Toby says to them.

"Josh, typically a man tells a woman, or a man, how he feels, and then they go out on a date," says Mark.

"And then they build up to playing catch in the back yard with the kids," Jeff says to me with a smirk.

"I was talking about her forth of July party!" I shout again.

"Sure you were," he says doubtfully.

I'm losing my mind here. I'm with two virtual strangers who know I'm in love with Donna, which by the way, I've never even said out loud. Not even to Toby, he just assumed. I mean, he's right of course, but that's hardly the point.

"So Josh, what exactly do you need from me?"

I try to close my mouth; I must look like a fish. "Well, it'd be helpful if you didn't let her buy a house."

"Don't let her buy a house?"

"See, I have a plan."

"They don't care about the plan," Toby says.

"I want to know the plan," says Mark, sitting up in his seat and looking at me like a kid on his birthday.

"See, Mark wants to know the plan." I turn to Mark. "Donna works for me, and because of that, we can't be together until the administration's over, which is in eleven months and seventeen days.  
I'm planning on proposing to her at 5:00pm that day in the office to prove to her that I don't want to wait a minute longer than I have to."

He puts his hand over his heart. "Are you gonna get down on one knee?"

"Ahh… yeah, I'd planned to."

"Romantic," he says, squeezing Jeff's arm and getting a girly look on his face.

"Thanks," I say, a little weirded out. "So," I say, turning to Jeff. "It'd be helpful if she wasn't eleven months into a new mortgage a day before she moves in with me and a week before we get married."

"A week before you get married?" Toby asks me quietly with shock in his voice.

I shrug. "I thought we'd go to St. Thomas for a month and get married while we're there."

"How are you this impatient?"

"I've been patiently waiting for eight years, Toby."

"Valid point."

"Eight years?" Mark asks in a wistful voice. "You've loved her for eight years? From afar?" When he asks this, he takes his hand from his heart and puts it over his mouth.

I nod. "About that, yeah."

"So, you want me to show her houses she'd hate for the next year?" Jeff asks in a doubtful voice, breaking the beautiful moment.

I look over at him and his scowl. "I considered that, but I didn't think you'd like that idea."

"You thought right."

Mark hits him on the shoulder. "Jeffrey Richard Roberts! You will help this adorable man win the heart of the woman he loves. Do you understand me?" Ok, so they've definitely got a husband/wife thing  
going on here. Or a husband/husband thing, whatever. But at least I've got one of them on my side, and I think it's the wife. And that's good, right? I mean, the wife really rules the house.

"Listen. No offence, but Donna's my client, not lover boy over here," he says to Mark. My eyes shoot up and Toby chuckles next to me. Lover boy?

"I know that," I tell him.

He turns to me. "It's my job to look out for her best interest, not yours."

"I am her best interest." That's only partially true. I'm not always her best interest; I can be a real bastard sometimes.

"I wouldn't have guessed that today," he says pointedly. Sure, bring that up.

I nod at him. "Well, that's because I was a jealous ass and she was mad at me."

"How do I even know she wants this plan of yours?"

"She wants it," Toby assures him.

He looks hard at Toby for a minute before turning to me. "Fine, what do you want me to do?"

**********

I think Josh is losing his mind. He's acting…strange. I guess that's a good way to put it. He goes from nice to frantic to sweet to over protective to political to flirtatious to paranoid to… well, you get  
the idea. And this has been going on for over a week. Today, he's a cross between sweet, political and frantic.

"Josh?" I ask, walking into his office.

"Yeah," he says, his head buried in the education bill.

"I just got a call from Jeff. He has an inside lead on a townhouse in Georgetown that he said we should check out as soon as possible."

"Georgetown?" he asks, looking up at me.

"Yeah. I'm not sure how it's in my price range, but I should probably go look at it."

He smiles at me. "You want me to come?"

Yes. Of course I do, but that's not really healthy. I tend to get… ideas when Josh comes with me, and it's best to remember that I'm buying, we're not. Not to say that I'm giving up on Josh and me. I'm not. I think that once the administration's over, we'll start to move towards a different type of relationship. I really do. But even then, I can't begin to fathom how long it'll be before he's ready to  
talk cohabitation. I know Amy brought up the move-in more than once, and every time, he was adamantly against it. He once compared moving in with her to signing his own arrest warrant. So I'm just saying,  
buying my own place is the smart thing to do. Josh and me living together… years down the road.

And it might not sound demanding enough, but I don't have a problem with that. I mean, yeah, I'm ready to marry him today, fly me to Vegas and I'll say `I do' before the Elvis judge asks the question, but I can wait until he's ready. I've tried other men; they're not so good for me. I'll wait for Josh; he's worth it.

"No, I'll be ok on my own. You have a meeting with Governor Thomas anyway."

He nods. "Right. The joyous republican state of Indiana."

"He's moderate Josh, be nice to him."

"Yes ma'am. You coming back in when you're done?"

"Yeah, I shouldn't be long."

See? Letting me leave work early on a Thursday? I left early yesterday too. Granted, I didn't ask him yesterday, I just went, but still… And last night, he had a pizza delivered to my apartment because he knew yesterday sucked. Why would you search for another  
man when you've got one who knows when you need thin crust cheese pizza without having to be told?

I meet Jeff at his office and we drive together to Georgetown. Georgetown's not all that big, and I start thinking it might be cool to live near Josh. I mean, not so much right now in the middle of the term where he would have far too much access to me. I can  
picture it now; `Hey Donna, let's work until 2am tonight, we'll just ride together to work and I'll make sure you get home ok.' `Hey Donna, I haven't been to the grocery store this… decade. What are we  
having for dinner? I'll be there in five minutes.' `Donna, who was that gomer who dropped you off at your place last night, and what were you doing out until one o'clock in the morning?' `Donna! Open up! I  
brought a briefing memo. Surprise!'

But… you know. After the administration when surprise visits can include sex... well that's a whole different story.

We pull to a stop and I break out of my little reverie to see that we're on Josh's street. Ok, this might be too close. We get out of the car and start walking, and Jeff starts talking about the place. "It's got two bedrooms and a den. A dining room, a fairly large kitchen with great appliances. Here's the thing though. It's not available for a while."

"That's ok. I'm not in a hurry. I'm on a month to month lease."

"I mean quite a while. The end of January."

"Next January?"

"Yeah."

"That's almost a year away! What's it even doing on the market?"

He shrugs. "It's such a good deal though. Financially, I don't think you can beat it. If you like this place and you can hold out where you are for now, I'd at least consider it."

We keep walking, and we keep getting closer to Josh's place. `Hey Donna, I spent the night at the office. Can you stop by my place and pick up something for me to wear?' `Donna, I'm out of beer. Can you bring one over to me?' Yeah, without the sex, I'm not sure this is gonna be worth it.

When we get to Josh's stoop, Jeff starts climbing the stairs. I stop at the bottom and stare up at him. He gets to the top, turns around and looks at me. "What?"

It's possible that I've never been this confused in my life. "Umm… I know this building."

"Seems like a good building," he says casually, turning back towards the door.

"I can't afford the townhouses in this building."

"I told you it was a good deal," he says, unlocking the outside door and walking inside. I'm in the Twilight Zone.

I follow him into the building and I start to realize something's up when he walks to Josh's door. Thank goodness. A joke. I thought I was losing my mind. "Ok, what's going on?"

"Going on?" he asks, unlocking the door.

"Jeff…"

He cuts me off. "Let's go in and take a look." He holds the door open for me and I walk inside to the foyer and take my coat off and hang it up like I have a thousand times before. "Here you have the living room with hardwood floors, a wood burning fireplace and a built in sound system."

"Yes, I know." Who the hell do you think waited here while the sound system was being installed.

He walks into the kitchen. "Right through here is the kitchen. It's well lit with top of the line appliances and tons of cabinet space. All the appliances stay." Hmm… and it's clean. That's not often the case.

"Jeff. What the hell's going on?"

He ignores me and continues on the tour. "Through here is the dining room, which is large enough to hold a pretty big table, as you can see."

"Wow. Lovely," I deadpan. I'm going to kill him. I don't know which him, but someone had better tell me what the hell's going on or someone's going to be killed.

"Now, through here," he says walking back through the kitchen and down a hallway, "is the master bedroom with a full bath and a huge walk-in closet."

"And let me guess. This is the den," I say, pointing to the room Josh uses as an office.

"Hmm," he says, looking into the room. "It appears so. It seems you're right at home here. Now, over here is the second bedroom, and this must be the guest bathroom. Yes. It's a nice sized bathroom,  
although it does need redecorated."

"I can see that." And yes, it does need redecorated.

He takes me by the arm and pulls me to the window. "That's the courtyard. It's a community yard for the four townhouses in the building. There's patio furniture, a garden, a gas grill, an old-  
fashioned swing and a hammock. It's the perfect size for things like… oh I don't know… forth of July picnics."

I take a deep breath. "I've been here about a million times, I'm well aware of the courtyard. And I've had about enough of this little game. Is he trying to show me what he can afford that I can't?"

"Let's just see what the seller's asking." He pulls out some more paperwork from his briefcase and reads over a sheet of paper. "The property is unavailable until the evening of January 19th, 2006. All  
the blinds stay, the appliances stay, the furniture stays, although remodeling and refurnishing can be negotiated. The townhouse also comes with an engagement ring and a life-long tenant."

"What the hell are you talking…" I trail off as the words sink in. "What?" I whisper, tears stinging my eyes.

"I said it also comes with an engagement ring and a life-long tenant," he says quietly, smiling at me.

My hand flies up to my mouth. "Jeff…"

"And according to this, the asking price is an unconditional heart, non-negotiable."

The tears that were seconds ago stinging my eyes are now flowing freely down my cheeks. "A life-long tenant?" I whisper.

"And you get to remodel that hideous bathroom," he says with a smile.

"That's a perk," I say through sobs as he hands me a handkerchief.

"But you have to wait until it's available."

"January 19th."

"Must be a special date." I nod and continue with the sobbing. "So, what do you think? Should we make an offer?"

It takes me a minute to answer him. He probably thinks I'm thinking about it, but the truth is, I can't make the room stop spinning. Finally I just start nodding and a minute later I find the ability  
to think. "Yeah, I think so."

He sits at the dining room table and takes out a sheet of paper. "What would you like to offer?"

I laugh through my tears and sit next to him. "Maybe I should talk to the seller in person."

He shakes his head. "I don't think that's gonna be possible. The seller seems to think he'd cave and let you take immediate possession, which for some reason would have a negative impact on his and his assistant's work."

"I see," I say, laughing again. "Then we better just fill out the paper-work." 

**********

I get back from my meeting with Governor Thomas an hour and a half after Donna leaves to meet Jeff. She's back at her desk, but her eyes are puffy, which means she's been crying. I'm not sure if that's a good sign or a bad sign.

"You're back," I say tentatively, walking up to her desk.

She keeps her eyes on her computer. "Yes. You got a fax. I put it on your desk."

My eyes widen. Ok, that's not quite the response I was looking for. "Ahh…k." I stare at her for several seconds, but she doesn't make eye contact, so I walk into my office and throw myself into my chair, trying not to panic at the thought that I've just been  
rebuffed. I finally sigh and pick up the fax.

 

To: Josh Lyman  
From: Jeff Roberts  
CC: Property at Prospect Street NW, Washington, DC 20007

Offer:

Buyer agrees to payment of one unconditional heart.

Buyer agrees to keep current furnishings, with the exception of the bed in the master bedroom. Bed must be replaced with king bed upon possession of townhouse.

Buyer agrees to life-long tenant.

Buyer agrees to move-in date: January 19th, 2006.

Seller agrees to provide one unconditional heart in return for the one he receives.

Seller agrees to continue with weekly maid service.

Seller agrees that buyer may redecorate guest bathroom.

Seller agrees to future remodeling of guest bedroom into nursery, at a time agreed upon by both the seller and buyer at a later date.

Seller agrees that engagement ring will be platinum, not gold, and that final selection of said ring will be approved by Claudia Jean Cregg.

Seller agrees to provide a double desk for the den.

Signed by buyer: Donnatella Moss

Signed by seller: ______________

 

I pick up a pen and sign the agreement. "Donna!"

"Yeah?" she asks a minute later, walking into my office.

"I need you to fax this to Jeff Roberts for me," I say with my head in a file and the world's goofiest grin on my face.


End file.
